Fishing For Murder

by Mark Zeid, author of Media Murder Mysteries

Fishing for Murder (working title) is a mystery in progress. There is little I can do to help with the COVID 19 crisis, but I can provide a novel free of charge for readers. I am posting a chapter of this mystery every week for readers to enjoy. Remember, this is a work in progress, so there will be errors. Therefore, I welcome any comments readers my have, especially those dealing with errors in fact. I hope you enjoy the story.

Fishing for Murder

by Mark Zeid

Chapter One

“He’s over here,” a voice shouted. “You two go up there and make sure he doesn’t make it up to the road.”

Wild Mike stayed still, He forced himself to calm his breathing as he listened to the rustling of the leaves and branches as the men moved through the brush. He was able to tell the movement of the men were to his left. They wanted to cut him off from the road, which suited him. He moved to his right, down closer to the water, still staying inside the tree line to avoid being spotted. He moved quietly, just as they had taught him years ago. Go a few steps, stop, listen, then move on. They repeatedly stress that during the training. Your goal is to be silent and deadly.

 The sounds of the men chasing him were growing fainter, meaning they were moving away from him. Still, he had to remain calm, not run, not give away his position. Up ahead he saw a boat house. If he could make it there, maybe he could find a boat, hopefully a kayak, which would allow him to quickly and silently move through the water and escape.

It took him almost fifteen minutes to cover the three hundred yards to the boathouse. He slowly opened the door, making as little noise as possible. He slipped inside and closed the door. His eyes were adjusted to the dark, so he didn’t turn on any light to search for his escape vehicle. He didn’t want to ruin his night vision. Suddenly the lights went on. Wild Mike turned to exit, but there was a person with a pistol standing between him and the door.

“Don’t,” the figure commanded. “Don’t do it. Don’t make me shoot you.”

* * * * *

Homer Rucker thought of himself as a good old country boy. He came complete with a beer belly and an attitude. His partner was Jefferson “Jeff” Davis, a 22-year-old, rookie with less than six months on the job.

“I can’t believe your mama named you after the President of the Confederacy,” Rucker said as he pulled their police vehicle up to the boat house. “What was she thinking?”

“Probably crackers like you would appreciate a nigger named after him,” Davis answered.

“Now, now.” Rucker responded. “I ain’t got anything against you or any other African Americans. After all, one of you became President of the United States. That’s quite an accomplishment.”

The two exited their patrol car and walked up to the boat house. “Heard you caught him,” Rucker said with a grin.

“She didn’t catch me,” Wild Mike stated. “I surrendered.”

Detective Kimberly Simmons was leaning against the boat house with Wild Mike sitting at her feet, his hands were hand cuffed behind his back. Kimberly sighed. Just her luck dispatch would send this patrol unit to transport the prisoner.

“He’s telling the truth,” Kimberly said, leaving out the part of her having her nine-millimeter weapon on him. “Listen carefully. Just because he’s hand cuffed, don’t think he can’t hurt you. Remember, he spent six years as a Marine Corps sniper. Give him cause or the opportunity, he’ll take you both out in a heartbeat.”

“Don’t you worry,” Rucker replied. “We know we’re dealing with a murderer. . .”

“I didn’t kill him,” Wild Mike shouted. “He was dead when I found him.’

“Yeah, sure,” Rucker said grinning. “Then why you had the victim’s hat. I bet when we search your belongings, we’ll find the victim’s other belongings, like his wallet and cell phone. Face it. You’re toast.”

“Enough,” Kimberly interjected. “Take him back to the station and process him. Don’t have anyone talk to him until I get there. I’m going to meet up with Tindall at the crime scene, but I should be back as the station within the hour. Understand.”

“Yes ma’am,” Davis answered.

“Don’t call me ma’am. I’m a detective. You can address me as detective, but not ma’am. I’m not an old lady.”

Davis nodded he understood as he and Rucker helped Wild Mike to his feet before placing him in the back of their patrol vehicle.

* * * * *

Detective Steve Tindall was setting up of the standing lights illuminating the crime scene. The coroner was already there, declaring the victim dead and that the body could be removed whenever the detectives were ready.

“What have you got?” Kimberly inquired as she approached her 39-year-old partner.

“I have a backache from carrying those damn lights,” Tindall groaned as he leaned his five-foot, ten-inch slender frame back. “It’s the middle of the night.”

Kimberly looked at her watch. “It’s only eleven thirty; but I guess it is past your bedtime.”

“Hey, I should be home watching the news on TV and drinking a beer.”

Kimberly chuckled. “You have two teenagers at home. They probably drank all of your beer, blamed it on your wife, and hid the remote so that you have watch MTV.”

“Paula doesn’t drink beer, my kids are too young to drink, and they have their own TVs.”

“How can you afford that on a cop’s salary?”

“Because like all good Americans, I have a couple thousand dollars of credit card debt,” Tindall answered. “How about you?”

“That’s the advantage of being single. I have only two credit cards and am able to pay them off every month. Back to my original question, what can you tell me about our victim?”

“He’s dead.”

“That’s what makes you such a wonderful detective,” Kimberly stated. “Your powers of observation are amazing. It couldn’t be that the body hasn’t moved since we’ve discovered almost two hours ago or the coroner has pronounced him dead, could it?”

“Yeah, yeah. What I’m saying is we have a dead body, no identification, the body was dragged out of the water, the coroner can’t give us a time of death until he does the autopsy, and there is no obvious cause of death.”

“What about the wounds and bruises on his body?”

“Don’t know. Fairly sure they happened shortly before he died, but whether they are the cause of death, we won’t know until after the autopsy.”

Kimberly knelt down to get a closer look at the body. “Do you think Wild Mike did this?”

“Again, don’t know,” Tindall answered. “He’s capable, especially since he’s an ex-Marine. And he has been brought in for assault before. But he’s never done anything like this. But then, he’s never been quite right since getting back from Iraq. They really did number on him over there. And he was found with the body. Also, we found these binoculars next to the body. Mike’s name is on them.”

“Get a warrant to go through his things,” Kimberly stated.

“He’s homeless.”

“Yeah, I know. But he has some kind of camp set up about a mile from here. That’s where he hangs out and most of his belongs are. And I want to do this by the book. I would hate to lose the case because of a technicality.”

“Good point,” Tindall replied. “The last thing we would want is for a killer to go free because we got lazy.”

* * * * *

The police station was a long, single-story, brick building with windows at least five feet above ground. The logic behind this was any blast or gunfire would miss the police officers sitting at their desk, thus protecting them. As with most police stations, Justin Ainsley, a public defender, was required to enter the building through the foyer, which placed him in front of a Plexiglass, bullet-proof window with a small depression at the bottom for passing documents to the police officer sitting on the other side. Justin stood there patiently waiting for the officer to ensure Justin had an appointment before buzzing him through and allowing him to proceed further into the building. Justin was surprised to find a woman about his own age waiting on the other side of the door.

“I’m Detective Kimberly Simmons. I’m the one who took the suspect, your client, Mike Richards into custody. He’s been booked on suspicion of murder.”

Justin studied the woman in front of him, she was of average height, with shoulder-length blond hair and deep blue eyes. She was attractive, with an hourglass figure. Still he could tell she had confidence, the kind that comes from dealing with hard and dangerous situations by overcoming them, not by asking others for help. “What evidence do have against him,” Justin asked.

The detective handed the lawyer a folder. “It’s a copy of the police report, or what we have so far. We are still waiting on the autopsy results, which we expect this afternoon, tomorrow at the latest.”

“Have you questioned my client?”

“We started to, but he demanded a lawyer as soon as we read him his rights.”

Justin opened the folder. He saw some crime scene photos, a list of items taken into evidence, and a detailed report of police actions.”

“Can you give me the Reader’s Digest version of the report?” Justin asked.

“Sure. Last night, about nine thirty, someone called in a report of man with a body. A patrol unit went to check it out. They saw Wild Mike with the body and started to chase him. Back up units arrived, as did I and my partner. I was able to take Wild Mike into custody without incident at a boat house about a mile and a half from the crime scene. Evidence collected at the crime scene was a hat we believed belonged to the victim and a set of binoculars belonging to Wild Mike. We also found blood on Wild Mike’s shirt. The lab results aren’t back yet, but I’m fairly sure it’s the victim’s blood. And when we search his camp; and yes, we had a warrant; we found a wallet and a cell phone, which we determined belonged to the victim, Raymond Carlsen.”

“What was your probable cause for the warrant?”

“Wild Mike was soaking wet, the body was pulled from the water, Wild Mike’s binoculars, and the fact he ran when we approached him.”

“Has my client made any statement, any explanation for his presence?”

“No,” Kimberly answered.

“Any motive?”

Kimberly shook her head. “None that we can find, but the investigation is less than a day old. But Wild Mike does have a history of violence since he returned from the war. He’s a mental case.”


“Who knows,” Kimberly answered.

Justin closed the folder. “So, what you have is a dead body and my client in the area. That’s hardly enough to charge him.”

“No,” Kimberly corrected Justin. “We found physical evidence tying him to the victim, Raymond Carlsen, present at the scene of the crime, fleeing the crime scene, and the ability to kill someone with his bare hands. Furthermore, there was a verbal altercation between Carlsen and Wild Mike a few days before. And the fact he’s homeless and a flight risk, we’re holding him. As for charging him, that’s up to the District Attorney, Connor Arnott, but you already know that.”

“I do have a couple of questions,” Justin stated. “First, why do you call him Wild Mike?”

“It’s a nickname he picked up. After he got back, he got into several physical altercations with locals, usually at bars. Nothing serious, most fist fights. People ended up with bruises and cut lips, but that’s all. Then he started living out there in the woods next to the lake where we found the body. Until now, we thought he was basically harmless.”

“But now you’ve changed your opinion of him?”

“I have a dead body and he was found in the area, so I’m not discounting possibility.

“Does he have any family?”

“He has a wife. I think he left her because he didn’t want to hurt her, but I can’t be sure. What else?”

“Your report said both Mike and the victim were wet, like they had been in the water.”

“Yeah, so?”

“What if Mike was bringing the body out of the water?”

“There were no drag marks.”

Justin grinned. “There wouldn’t be if Mike was carrying the body.”

“Nice try,” a man in a three-piece suit said as he walked up to Justin and Kimberly. He was in his mid-forties, carrying a slight paunch, had thinning blond hair with a touch of silver. “But we have him dead to rights. The only thing we’re missing is a confession, which we really don’t need.”

“Not to be rude,” Justin interjected, “But who are you?”

Kimberly waved her hand to man in the expensive suit. “This is the District Attorney, Mr. Connor Arnott.”

Justin put out his hand. “I’m Justin Ainsley, a public defender. I’m Mr. Mike Richards court-appointed lawyer.”

“Yeah, I know,” Arnott replied. “Look, here’s the deal. You get him to confess, and I’ll reduce the charges to manslaughter. He’ll do maybe ten years, if he doesn’t cause problems while he’s in prison. What do you say?”

Justin gave Arnott a slight smile. “I say I’ll talk to my client first.”

* * * * *

Twelve hours had done wonders for Wild Mike. He had the chance to shower, changed into a clean orange jumpsuit, and given something to eat. However, the time in custody had done nothing to improve his attitude.

Wild Mike was escorted into the room. it was barren except of a table bolted to the floor with two chairs chained to large metal U-bolts cemented into the floor. The chains allowed for the chairs to move a foot in any direction. Wild Mike’s hands were restrained by a chain around his stomach, which was also chained to the shackles around his legs. He was led to a chair and forced to sit down. Wild Mike stared across the table at the person sitting on the other side. The man was about thirty, with dark, neatly trimmed hair. He had a tanned complexion which he got from being outdoors, probably from jogging to keep him in good physical shape. But what impressed Wild Mike was the man was confident. Mike could tell this man was not scared of him or his reputation.

“Who are you?” Wild Mike demanded.

“I’m your lawyer.”

“Took your sweet time getting here. Are you going to get me out?”

“My name is Justin Ainsley. I’m a public defender. Do you know what that means?”

Wild Mike turned to the guard who had brought him into the room. “Hey, I’m talking to my lawyer. This is a private conversation. You’ve got to leave. And turn off the cameras.”

Justin nodded to the guard that it was okay for him to leave. “There are no cameras in this room,” Justin said after the guard left the room. This room is used for attorney-client conversations and the police are not allowed to monitor the conversations, although there is a window and I’m sure there is someone watching to make sure you don’t hurt me.”

“Now, why would I want to hurt you? Just get me out of here.”

Justin stared at the man with long hair and an unkept beard. Justin’s client was about thirty and in excellent physical shape, which was surprising for a homeless man. Justin opened a folder laying on the table between him and Wild Mike. He placed a photograph of a dead body in front of Wild Mike. “What can you tell me about this?”

“I didn’t kill him. I didn’t do anything. I don’t belong in here.”

“The police have quite a bit of physical evidence that says you did. You were at the scene with Carlsen, the man who was killed. Your binoculars were at the scene. They found the victim’s cell phone and wallet hidden in your camp. There are witnesses who say you had a verbal altercation with Carlsen a few days before. They have quite a bit to hold you on.”

“I didn’t do it.”

“Then tell me what happened.”

Wild Mike leaned back in his chair. “Why? You wouldn’t believe me. Why should I tell you anything?”

Justin sighed. “You like this place? I mean do you want to stay here?”

“No,” Wild Mike answered.

“Then tell me what happened. I can’t help you if you won’t help me.”

“Real crusader, are you?”

“No. I’m a public defender who earns a set salary whether you go to prison or go free. Win or lose, I get my paycheck and get to go home. Now, pretend you’re the Jolly Green Giant and can the crap. Tell me what happened.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

Justin leaned forward, placed his hands on the table, and stared at Wild Mike. “Then why are you here?” Justin leaned back in his chair.

“It was the lights.”

“What lights?”

“I sleep out there by the lake. I kind of like the being out there. I’m alone. Don’t bother anybody. Anyway, whenever there is a lot of noise on the lake or lights, it wakes me up.”

“Go on.”

“Well, I see these lights. First, I heard some motors out on the lake, then I see some lights out there. I kind of hang out on the bank, watching. Can’t really see anything because the lights from the boat ruin my night vision. There was a boat and I figured they dumped something overboard because I heard a splash. Then the boat leaves. Anyway, I’m hanging out there and I see something floating in the water. My night vision begins to come back. I wait a while and it gets closer to shore. As it gets closer, I see it’s a body. So, I went out into the water and brought it back to shore. As soon as I set the body down, some cops come up and say I killed the guy. They pulled their guns, but I got out of there before they could shoot. They chased me through the woods. I was getting away too, that is until that detective found me in the boathouse. So, I surrendered. But I didn’t kill that guy. I don’t even know him.”

“According to the report, you have a verbal altercation with him a few days earlier.”

“What do you mean?”

Justin pulled out a piece of paper. “This police report says you had an argument with the victim two days before he was found dead.”

Wild Mike scoffed. “I argue with a lot of guys. That doesn’t mean I kill them. Besides, I didn’t recognize the guy I pulled out of the water. His face was all beat up. I guess the rocks got to him before I did. Anyway, as soon as I got on the beach, the police showed up.”

“So, you are down at the shore of the lake, hanging out, then you see a body in the water. You go and get the body, drag it out of the water. Just as you get to shore the police show up and you run off.”

“That’s right. Now get me out of here.”

“First, I have to prove you didn’t kill the guy.”

* *  * * *

Justin walked along the shoreline. He remembered the summers he came to a similar place to fish with his father, who loved fishing. He remembered the bugs and hot sun making the cool water a welcomed relief whenever he had to wade in to get a fish he had caught. Justin remembered the smell of dead fish and algae.  He noticed this lake had more than its fair share of dead fish washing up along the shoreline.

A voice interrupted Justin’s reminiscence. “What are you doing out here?”

Justin turned to see Detective Kimberly Simmons standing next to tree. “Just getting the lay of the land, sizing up the case against my client. What are you doing here?”

“Still an active police investigation. Granted, the CSI team went through everything last night, and again this morning in the daylight. But I wanted to see the crime scene for myself.”

“Strange,” Justin said. “I thought once you had a suspect in custody, the case was closed.”

“You know better than that.”

“What do you mean?” Justin said feigning ignorance.

“Justin Ainsley, graduated Summa Cum Laude from Antioch Law School, Captain, U.S. Army, two tours in Iraq and six years with the Judge Advocates Corps, honorably discharged, two years with the public defender’s office. You’ve been around enough to know that the case is not closed until the actual person who committed the crime is put in prison.”

“You’ve done your homework. I wish I knew as much about you.”

Kimberly walked up to Justin and gave him a smirk. “You mean you don’t like a woman of mystery.”

Justin chuckled. “Not when that woman carries a badge and a gun.”

“So, Mr. Ainsley, what brought you to our fair city. This area is great for fishing and hunting, but you don’t impress me as the outdoorsy type.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Call it a hunch. We cops have them all the time.”

Justin grinned. “Nice place. I imagine a lot of people come out here to fish.”

“Used to,” Kimberly replied. She pointed to several large homes on a ridge above the shore. “About ten years ago, rich people bought up property here and created private access to the lake. They can’t stop people from coming ashore from boats or walking along the shoreline on one of the paths; but they did put up fences and cut off public access to the lake from the road. The public access is limited to the boat rental places about a mile from here, where the parking lots and entrance to the trails are.”

Justin scanned the homes above him. “If they own the land, how is it that Mike is able to stay out here?”

“They don’t own the land,” Kimberly answered. “They own the property between the road and the lake. To get here, you have to cross their property, which is fenced, has cameras, and several of them have dogs that are not very friendly. As for Wild Mike, his camp is about a mile from here, and it’s pretty far back from the path. He really doesn’t bother anyone when he’s out here. All the problems we had with him was when he was living in town. Once he set up camp out here, he mellowed out.”

“Then what was the altercation he had with Carlsen about?”

Kimberly shrugged her shoulders. “Who knows. It’s easy to set Wild Mike off. He’s not very sociable. The weird thing is before he went into the Marines, he was really popular and friendly.”

“According to his service record, he saw combat in Iraq and Afghanistan. I’m sure that changed him.”

“I’m sure it did,” Kimberly said in agreement.

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of several loud motors. Justin and Kimberly saw four young men pass by on jet skis, each of them staring at the couple on the shore. They quickly turned and speed away as Justin and Kimberly watched as the jet skiers went around a bend in the shoreline.

“Gee, I hope we didn’t scare them away,” Justin said in a mocking voice.

“They’re college kids. They probably left because we didn’t have any beer.”

“I don’t know,” Justin said. “I don’t think that’s the reason they left.”

* * * * *

“This place is a mess,” Justin said as he and Kimberly approached Wild Mike’s camp, which was located several hundred yards from the main path surrounding the lake. The camp had a rock overhang that provided some protection from the elements. Wild Mike had also set up some sticks to form walls on either side of the camp.

“Truthfully, the camp was really neat when we went through it this morning,” Kimberly answered. “I think the patrol officers helping with the search got a little too enthusiastic. And before you ask, yes, we had a warrant.”

“You told me that already. According to your report, you found the victim’s wallet and cell phone here?”

“That’s right. One of the patrol officers found them in Wild Mike’s sleeping bag.”

“Find anything else?”

“Now that you mention it, yes. We found some clean clothes and some food. It looked like someone left it here for Wild Mike.”

“Where did you find that?” Justin asked.

“Right here,” Kimberly answered, pointing to a large flat rock covered with a small blue plastic sheet. The plastic had several stones around the edges, keeping it from blowing away.

“How long between the time you arrested Mike and the time you searched his camp?”

“About ten or eleven hours. I took Wild Mike into custody before midnight. We got here about ten o’clock. We had to get the warrant first, and no judge is going to give us a warrant before he or she has had their morning coffee.”

Justin waved his hand. “This is public access. Anyone could have put the cell phone and wallet there.”

Kimberly chuckled. “You want me to believe someone planted evidence to frame Wild Mike within hours after killing Carlsen. How did the killer know Wild Mike was at the crime scene and how did he manage to get here, plant evidence without leaving any trace, within hours after the body was discovered?”

“It’s my job to explore all of the possibilities.”

Kimberly walked over to Justin and gently tapped him in his chest. “Just be sure to explore the possibility that Wild Mike did kill Carlsen.”

* * * * *

Chapter Two

“All rise. Court is in session. The Honorable Gwen Whitlock presiding.”

The judge entered the courtroom and took her seat. “Please take you seats.” She looked over the courtroom. “Is the District Attorney ready?”

“Yes, your Honor,” Connor Arnott answered without getting out of his chair.

The judge looked at Justin and the defendant, Wild Mike. “Is the Defense ready?”

Justin stood up. “Yes, your Honor.”

The judge looked at several papers on her desk. She turned her attention to Wild Mike. “Mr. Richards, I see you served our country as a Marine. I thank you for your service. Now, about the matter at hand. Do you understand you have been charged with murder?”

Justin gestured for Mike to stand up. “Yes, your Honor,” Wild Mike answered.

“How do you plea?” the judge asked.

“My client pleas ‘not guilty’ your Honor.”

“Let the record show the defendant pleaded not guilty,” the judge acknowledged.

“Your Honor,” Justin interjected. “There is the matter of bail.”

“Absolutely not,” Arnott yelled. “This is a cold-blooded murder case. The defendant is homeless and a flight risk. He has a violent past and is a danger to the community. Under no circumstances should bail be allowed.”

“Your Honor,” Justin countered. “The evidence against my client is circumstantial. Yes, he was at the scene; but being at the scene of a crime doesn’t mean he committed it, and District Attorney knows that. As for the victim’s belongings being found at my client’s camp, there is public access, and anyone could have put it there.”

“Highly unlikely,” Arnott argued.

“Still, my client is entitled to bail.”

“He’s a flight risk,” Arnott yelled.

“Mr. Arnott,” the judge said interrupting Arnott. “I appreciate lawyers having passion for their cases, but I do not appreciate screaming and theatrics in my courtroom.” The judge turned her attention to Justin. “But Mr. Arnott is right. Your client is homeless and a flight risk. Bail is denied.”

A young woman with shoulder-length, dark brown hair leaned over the railing separating the attorneys from nonparticipants in the court. She was dressed in a flower-print dress, which Justin imagined was one of her best dresses that she owned. She whispered something in Justin’s ear.

“Is there something you would like to share with the court Mr. Ainsley?” the judge demanded more than asking.

Justin turned his attention back to the judge. “Your Honor, this is Mrs. Kristen Richards, wife of the defendant. She is requesting visitation rights with her husband while he is custody.”

The judge took a minute to think about the request. “I’ll allow supervised visits while awaiting trial. Is there anything else?”

Both lawyers nodded there wasn’t anything else. “Then I expect all pretrial motions and discovery to be filed within thirty days,” the judge commanded. “If there is nothing else, then the defendant is remanded to pretrial confinement.”

* * * * *

Ten Years Ago

Nineteen-year-old Kristen Tarleton was working as a volunteer for the Multiple Sclerosis aquatic program at a pool where Mike Richards was a lifeguard. The program lasted an hour every Monday and Wednesday during the summer. Kristen found herself staying to swim laps, making sure one particular lifeguard noticed her, after the patients had gone home. Mike made time to chat with her when he wasn’t on duty. Kristen was attracted to this boy who was confident, athletic, and funny. Even though he was strong, he was gentle with her. Mike found the shy girl with a swimsuit model’s figure interesting and caring; traits he admired greatly. On his eighteenth birthday, Mike enlisted in the Marines. Kristen spent the next three months writing letters and dreaming of when he would return. After boot camp, Mike returned for a ten-day leave and to ask Kristen to marry him. Less than a year later, after Mike completed his advanced infantry training and was assigned to Camp Lejeune, North Carolina, they were married. At first, marriage was wonderful, until Mike’s first tour to the Middle East. He returned changed. He was no longer gentle, funny, or loving. He was irritable, aloof, and couldn’t sleep. It got worse after Mike’s second tour. When his enlistment was over, Kristen hoped things would improve, but instead they got worse.

It was this shy girl, hopelessly in love with her husband, but unable to live with him; that Justin met as he walked out of the courtroom. “Excuse me,” she said, afraid to confront Justin. “You’re my husband’s lawyer, aren’t you?”

“That’s right,” Justin answered. “What can I do for you?”

“I just wanted to say that I know Mike has a reputation for being violent, but I know him. He would never kill anyone.”

Justin sighed as he held his briefcase in both hands in front of him. “Mrs. Richards Your husband was a Marine Corps sniper. He was trained to kill. He served two combat tours. He’s killed before and is quite capable of killing again.”

“So, you believe he’s guilty?”

“I don’t know,” Justin answered. “While he has the ability, many of the facts of the case seem to be too convenient.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’ll put it this way. I’m your husband’s lawyer, and I’m going to do everything possible to see he gets a fair trial and justice is served.”

The shy woman in front of Justin shook her head and held it high. “He has his flaws, but he didn’t kill that boy. Mike is innocent. I want you to prove it and get him out of jail.”

Before Justin could answer, Kimberly joined him and Kristen. “Mrs. Richards. Good to see you. How are you doing?”

Kristen glared at Kimberly. “What do you care? You’re the one who put him in jail. You cops pinned this murder on Mike because you want to solve this case and you don’t care who gets sent to prison for it.”

Kimberly reached out to calm Kristen. Kristen took a step back. “Don’t touch me,” she commanded. “I don’t want any of you filthy cops to touch me. Just get out there and find the real killer.” Kristen didn’t wait for a response; she stormed off.

“Don’t blame her,” Justin said to Kimberly. “She’s just upset because what her husband is going through.”

“No kidding,” Kimberly replied sarcastically.

“Well, if you excuse me, I have a lot of work to do. I need to start on pretrial motions and examining the evidence against my client.”

Kimberly took a deep breath. “Would you like to get a cup of coffee?”

Justin stood still for a moment before answering. “Sure. Why not. Besides, I’ve got some questions I would like to ask you about the case.”

Kimberly smiled. “I was kind of hoping you would say that.”

* * * * *

Dannie’s Deli was considered the best family-owned restaurant in the city. It was a small place with six booths along one wall and eight tables in the middle of the room. At the back end were to two glass counters forming an L: one filled with pastries and one filled with deli meats and side salads.

Justin stopped in front of the shop and pointed to a sign written in a foreign language. “Do you know what that says?” Justin asked Kimberly.

She glanced at the sign. “It’s Hebrew. It says they serve kosher food here. The family who owns the shop are Jewish. They’re really nice people.”

Kimberly and Justin entered the shop. An elderly man greeted them. “You want Hebrew or English menu?”

“English,” Kimberly answered. She led Justin to a table towards the back of the dining area. Justin could smell chicken soup coming from the kitchen behind a set of double doors, one mark with enter and the other with exit.

“I recommend their pastrami on rye or the tuna melt,” Kimberly said as Justin looked at the menu. “But truthfully, everything is good here.”

“I take it you come here often.”

“They give you free refills on all drinks, the food is good, the prices are reasonable, and the service is great.”

Justin chuckled. “And thought only truckers knew the best places to eat.”

“So do cops.”

A young lady came over and placed a pot of tea and two cups on the table. “Let me know when you are ready to order,” said the waitress.

“I’m ready now,” Kimberly responded. “I’ll take a blueberry bagel with cream cheese and an order of blintzes.”

The waitress turned to Justin. “What about you sir?’

Justin put down the menu. “I guess I’ll have the pastrami sandwich and a Coke.”

The waitress repeated their order as she took up the menus before leaving. Kimberly poured herself a cup of tea for herself and Justin.

Justin picked up his cup and gave Kimberly a small wave of the cup. He took a sip and placed the cup back on the table. “So, tell me why you wanted to talk to me? What do you want to tell me about the case?”

“What makes you think I have any information about the case that I haven’t told you?”

“Call it a hunch. Us lawyers are known to have them.”

Kimberly game Justin a small smile. “Maybe I want to hear what you have to say. Maybe I want to know how you intend to defend Wild Mike.”

“Simple. He didn’t do it. I’m going to find out who did.”

“Ah, the SODDI (some other dude did it) defense. Why am I not surprised?”

Justin chuckled. “Maybe someone else did do it. Maybe you have the wrong person in custody. Have you thought about that?”


“What?” Justin exclaimed in surprise. “You agree with me?”

“A better way would be to say I’m open to exploring the possibility of Wild Mike being innocent.”


“Wild Mike,” Kimberly replied. “He was wet and so was Carlsen. The only reason Wild Mike would be on the shore with a wet body is if he went in the lake and pulled it out.”

“You don’t think they were fighting and maybe Mike drowned the victim?”

“Wild Mike is a scrapper; but he had no wounds or bruises on him. There were no cuts or scrapes on his hands or knuckles. Ever known a person get into a fight and not come out without at least one bruise?”

Justin nodded his head in agreement. “If you think he’s innocent, then why do you have him locked up. Let him go.”

“It’s not up to me. For some reason, the DA, Connor Arnott, seems to be out to get Wild Mike.”

“What’s his story?”

“What do you mean?”

“Who is he? How did he become the DA? What’s his background?”

“Don’t really know,” Kimberly answered. “He’s been the DA for I don’t know how long. He’s fairly good. He supports the cops. I know he wants to get into politics, so he’s probably trying to make a name for himself.”

“Why does he have it out for Mike?”

“I don’t think he has it out for Wild Mike. But this case is going to big news and it’s a great chance to get known.”

Justin looked confused. “What makes this case so important? I know it’s a homicide, but there have been other homicide cases before.”

Kimberly chuckled. “You really don’t know, do you? Raymond Carlsen, the victim, was the son of our state senator, Phillip Carlsen; and Raymond was working at the law firm of Nicole Welsh, the highest paid corporate lawyer in the state. How did you not know about this?”

“I knew about Raymond being Phillip Carlsen’s son, but I didn’t know he was a lawyer.”

“He wasn’t,” Kimberly replied. “He was an intern at the firm. He would have started next year as an associate there.”

“And to think I thought he was just some kid the police found on the shore of the lake.”

“Not hardly,” Kimberly answered. “Not hardly.”

* * * * *

Justin placed his CAC (computer access card) card into the slot on the keyboard of his computer. He sat down behind his desk, waiting for the computer files to open. As Justin leaned back in his chair, his associate, Wendy Codwell entered his office.

Wendy was a full-figured woman who celebrated her thirty-ninth birthday every year for the past decade. Justin was impressed with Wendy for three reasons. The first was she was always dress in professionally in tailored suits. Second, she was extremely intelligent and resourceful, even for a lawyer. The third was her brilliantly dyed red hair.

“What do we have?” Justin asked.

“A real ball buster,” Wendy answered. “This case is not a simple homicide.”

“Explain,” Justin commanded.

“Don’t take that tone with me,” Wendy responded. She placed a folder on Justin’s desk. “The victim, Raymond Carlsen, is the son of state senator Phillip Carlsen.”

“I know,” Justin stated interrupting Wendy.

“He’s also a law school student working for Nicole Welsh, a high-priced corporate lawyer with a lot of influence in the community.”

“Again, I already know that.”

“The defendant in this case is a former Marine Corps sniper who pulled two tours in the Middle East. He’s trained in hand-to-hand combat and can easily kill someone with his bare hands.”

“Still, nothing new.”

Wendy let out a deep breath. “Did you know he was seeing a mental health counselor at the VA?”

“No, that I didn’t know.” Justin leaned back in his chair. “See if you can’t get a HIPAA (Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act of 1996) release from our client. We’ll want a copy of his records from the VA.”

“Now you’re telling me something I already know,” Wendy snidely responded.

“Anything else?”

“Not yet, but then the murder occurred last night. We haven’t got the autopsy results yet. As for the lab results from the autopsy and the crime scene evidence collected, it’s going to be a while before we them.”

“Yeah, I know,” Justin replied. “In the meantime, see what you can find out about Detective Kimberly Simmons.”

“Any special reason you’re so interested in this detective?”

Justin blushed as he thought of Kimberly. Yes, he did find her attractive, but then who wouldn’t be interested in learning more about the blond-haired, blue-eyed Amazon carrying a police shield. “Not really,” Justin lied. “I just want to know more about the people involved in this case, and that includes the detective who made the arrest.”

Wendy turned to leave Justin’s office. At the door, she looked over her shoulder at Justin. “Yeah, sure,” she said with a smile, “I’ll make sure to get you that information.”

* * * * *

“About time you got back,” Tindall commented snidely as Kimberly walked into the office.

“Why? What did I miss?” Kimberly asked.

“The autopsy report came in.”

“What did it say?”

“Cause of death was blunt-force trauma. He was beaten to death before being dumped in the lake.”

Kimberly glared at Tindall. “You are such a great detective. To think, with all those bruises and being wet, it’s amazing that you and the coroner were able to come to that conclusion.”

Tindall chuckled. “Yeah. The coroner was also able to establish the time of death. It was less than an hour before the body was discovered.”



Kimberly strolled around the office. “Wild Mike gets into a fight with someone, beats him, then drowns him, then drags the body out of the water. But there were no signs of an altercation at the scene. No blood cast off. No drag marks. The only foot prints we found there were of Wild Mike’s, going in and out of the water. And no signs of Wild Mike being in a fight.”

“And you’re beginning to think maybe he didn’t kill Carlsen.”

“When did Wild Mike start living out there in the woods?”

“I don’t know,” Tindall answered. “Probably a couple of months ago. I know he was living with his wife three months ago when you picked him up for that bar fight.”

“Yes, that’s right. And since then, he hasn’t caused any trouble.”

“Not quite,” Tindall responded. “There have been several complaints about him out there. Mostly college kids and those rich snobs who live on the lake complaining about him watching them. They always see him with a pair of binoculars.”

“But except for a few barroom brawls, Wild Mike hasn’t done anything that violent. While he’s capable, I don’t see him killing someone over a petty argument.”

Tindall clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back. “Doesn’t change the fact we have a homicide victim and the only suspect is Wild Mike.”

Kimberly crossed her arms in front of her and stared at Tindall leaning back in his chair. “You know what this means, don’t you?” she stated.

Tindall groaned as sat back upright and brought his hands down. “Yeah. It means we might have an unsolved homicide.”

* * * * *

Chapter Three

At fifty-three years of age, Nicole Welsh had it all. She had the six-bedroom, four bath, two-story house with an in-ground pool and a large garage for the four cars she shared with her husband, Brandon Hansen. Nicole graduated from law school twenty-eight years ago. She then found a rich husband and became head of her own law firm all before the age of thirty. Since then, she managed to become one of the highest-paid and most successful corporate lawyers in the state. As Justin stood in the foyer of the home, he admired the large office/library off to the right and the spacious living room to his left. A maid had instructed him to wait there while she informed Nicole of Justin’s presence. Justin took a few steps to the entrance of the living room, noticing a large, flat-screen TV, several tasteful sculptures and paintings. On the mantel over the fireplace were a set of candlesticks flanking a large mirror.

“Can I help you?” an authoritative feminine voice demanded. “You’ve interrupted my breakfast.”

Justin turned to see a middle-aged woman in a kimono robe over silk pajamas. Her hair was cut short, just covering her ears, and showing streaks of gray.

“I asked if I could help you,” the woman demanded again.

Justin put out his hand. “I’m Justin Ainsley. I’m an attorney and working on a case involving a homicide that occurred two days ago. I was hoping I could ask you a few questions.”

The woman closed her robe. “I know who you are. I have nothing to say about the case.”

“And I know who you are,” Justin replied. “You’re Nicole Welsh, high-priced corporate lawyer, and the person who called the police the night of the murder.”

Nicole scoffed. “I’m a lawyer and I know a bluff when I see one. I didn’t call the police. I didn’t know anything happened until the next day when I saw it on the news.”

“Strange? Your property overlooks where the murder happened.”

“So do a lot of others.”

Justin walked through the foyer into a room leading to the back of the house and the pool. “I can almost see the shoreline from here. I’m sure from the second floor or the edge of your property, you can see it. Mind if I take a look.”

Nicole smiled at Justin. “Well, I’m certainly not going to invite you up to my boudoir, but you are welcome to go outside and take a look.” Nicole opened the back door and led Justin to the edge of her property.

“I was right,” Justin commented. “You can see the shoreline from here.”

“Just because I can see it, doesn’t mean I did. I had no reason to look outside that night.”

“Really,” Justin stated with disbelief. “With all the lights out there on the shoreline, including the blue police lights, you didn’t bother to take a look to see what was going on?”

“I guess I was asleep by the time all of that happened.”

“Yeah, that’s probably it. Let me ask you about something else.”


“Raymond Carlsen.”

“What about him?

“Surely you knew he was the victim,” Justin stated with a smile.

“Of course I knew.”

“He worked for you, didn’t he?”

Nicole crossed her arms in front of her chest. “You know he did.”

“Just had to confirm it.”

“No, you didn’t,” Nicole responded. “Like all lawyers, you know the answer to all of the questions before you ask them.”

“Here’s one I don’t know. When was the last time you saw Raymond?”

Nicole stared at Justin for a moment before answering. “It was the day before he was murdered. He’s an intern at my office. I saw him at work that day when I left the office that afternoon, he was still working. If I remember correctly, he was making some copies for one of the associates.”

“So, you didn’t see him the day he was murdered?”

“I just told you I didn’t. What makes you think I did?”

“Nothing really,” Justin answered. “I’m just wondering why Raymond was out here.”

“What makes you think he was here?”

“He had to have some reason for coming to the lake.”

* * * * *

Justin pulled his white Toyota into a parking space at the edge of the gravel parking lot. Once again, he was assaulted by the odor of fish and algae as he got out of his car. He felt the rocks through the soles of his shoes as he walked across the gravel to the office for renting jet skis and boats on the lake. One dock was under construction. Justin could see the posts leading into the water, although the boards of the dock extended only about a third of the way. Several college-age students standing on a second dock attracted Justin’s attention. They were discussing the merits of various locations on the lake and which would be the best place for their outing, which included two coolers, probably filled with ice and beer.

A man came out of the rental office. “Morning. What can I do for you?” he asked.

The man was in his early forties, slender and tan from working outside. He was dressed in cutoff jeans and a white sleeveless tee shirt advertising a local bar. He pulled a red ball cap from his rear pocket and placed on his head with his receding hairline and short dark hair.

“I take it you’re the owner of this establishment,” Justin said as he looked at the canoes, kayaks, motorboats, and jet skis.

“Nope. The bank owns it. They just let me work here and pay them money every month,” the man answered with a chuckle. “Name’s Thom Ferrell. What can I do for you?”

Justin extended his hand. “I’m Justin Ainsley. I’m investigating a homicide that took place here a couple of days ago.”

“Be careful there,” a voice responded.

Justin turned to see Kimberly standing a few feet from them. “People might think you’re a cop; and we wouldn’t want that.”

“That’s right; you could get into trouble impersonating a police officer,” said a man standing next to Kimberly.

Kimberly faced the man. “That’s right. You two haven’t met.” Kimberly motioned to Justin, then the man next to her. “This is Justin Ainsley, Wild Mike’s lawyer. Justin, my partner, Steve Tindall.”

Tindall stepped forward and shook Justin’s hand. Tindall gave a nod to the marina owner. “Thom, good to see you. Hope you don’t mind us asking a few questions.”

“If it’s about that kid getting killed, ain’t got anything to tell you. I close this place up at six and go home. I didn’t hear anything about it until the next morning.”

Justin took a couple of steps towards the docks. “Doesn’t look like you do much business. I mean it looks like most of your boats and stuff are here, not on the water.”

“You’re right about that,” Thom said with a chuckle. “But then, it’s a weekday. Most of the kids are in school. On the weekends and during school breaks, I can barely keep up with demands for jet skis and boats. But, the construction of the new dock will help business once it’s completed.”

“Lots of fishermen on the weekends,” Justin asked.

“Not anymore,” Thom replied. “It seems the fishing has gotten bad. There used to be quite a few people coming up from the college and neighboring cities; but not anymore. Guess fishing isn’t as popular as it used to be.”

“Enough about fishing,” Tindall said hoping to bring the focus of the conversation back to him. “What can you tell me about Wild Mike? Heard he had a scuffle with someone here several days ago.”

Thom pulled his hat off to wipe the sweat off his forehead. “Yeah, that happened. This young fella threw a wrapper on the ground. Wild Mike picked it up and put it in the trash can. Then he scolded the young man about littering. That fella started yelling back, telling Mike to mind his own business. Well, that just pissed Mike off more, and he started screaming at the kid. Then the kid shoved Mike. Guess the kid thought he could scare Mike off. No way. Sure enough, Mike decked the kid. I was able to pull Mike off and the kid’s friends held him back. Then the wimps called the cops to file a complaint, saying Wild Mike assaulted them. Of course, Mike had disappeared before the cops showed up. I told them that the kid started it, but Mike finished it.”

Justin held up his hand to interrupt Thom’s story. “Does Mike often have altercations with others who litter?”

Thom shook his head. “If you leave Wild Mike alone, he’ll leave you alone. Oh, he might cuss you out for littering or doing something you shouldn’t. But if you keep on walking, he’ll leave you be. He does look for fights, but he won’t turn tail and run from one.”

“Did Mike seem especially angry at this kid?” Tindall asked. “Did it seem that Mike wanted to finish what he had started?”

“Mike didn’t start the altercation,” Justin interjected. “Thom just told you it was the young man who threw the wrapper on the ground.”

“Yeah, I know,” Tindall responded. “But considering the young man Mike had the fight with was our victim, Raymond Carlsen, and the fact it occurred one day before we found him dead; I need to be sure that Mike didn’t have a grudge and go looking for this kid.”

Justin took a step forward to face Tindall. “So, you think Mike went looking for Raymond, found him the next day, beat him up and killed him because of a candy wrapper.”

Tindall glared back at Justin. “No. I think Wild Mike went looking for Raymond because he called the police and got Mike in trouble.”

“I think the both of you need to get your testosterone in check,” Kimberly said with a degree of frustration.  She reached out and turned Justin to face her. “Look we need to investigate everything, including a possible motive for Mike to kill Raymond. You don’t know Mike the way we do. He always seems to be in a bad mood; one step from going off the deep end.”

Justin nodded he understood before facing Thom. “I do have one question. Why was Mike down here? What was he doing here at the marina?”

Thom waved his hand towards the building that served as the office for the marina. I run a small convenience store. I often get supplies for Wild Mike. He was here to pick them up.”

“Did he?” Justin asked.

“Of course. He got them right after he knocked that young fella down. He got them. When the kids told him they had called the police, Mike flipped them off and went on his way.”

“Seemed pretty calm for a crazed killer,” Justin commented.

* * * * *

It was certainly quiet Justin thought as he made his way to Mike’s camp. After spending the day in his office going over paperwork, Justin didn’t know if he should appreciate this opportunity to get outdoors. He still smelled the fish and algae, but he also smelled the pine while listening to the wind rustling the leaves in the trees. Dusk was coming and soon it would be too dark to find the place, even with a flashlight. Also, Justin’s unfamiliarity with the lake and wooded area surrounding it didn’t help. According to the directions given to him by Thom that morning, all he had to do was follow the path around the lake until he came to a small foot bridge over a stream. Justin simply had to turn away from the lake and follow the path uphill for about half a mile to Mike’s camp. Justin stopped about halfway up the path, turned, and admired the view. He watched several large birds soar above the lake. After a minute, he returned to his trek up the hill.

Justin found the camp. It was as he had seen it the other day. Most of Mike’s belongings were strewn about the site, evidence of the police ransacking the place when looking for evidence. Justin found some food in a plastic bag next to clean shirts, underwear, and a pair of pants in a pile beside a wooden chair.

“I see you found the place.”

The voice startled Justin, who turned to see Detective Kimberly Simmons leaning against a tree, grinning at him.

“What are you doing here?” Justin demanded.

“Saw you taking off down the trail by the lake. Figured you would be coming back here. I followed you to make sure you didn’t get lost.”

“You were worried about me?”

“More of I didn’t want to mount a search and rescue mission for a lost lawyer, especially at night.”

“You could have waited until daylight. I doubt there is anything out here that will hurt me.”

Kimberly found a log to sit on. “What are you doing out here? You were here the other day. Nothing’s changed.”

“I wanted to go over the events of that night; but I wanted to do them at the time they happened.”

“In that case, I’ll wait with you. Kind of help you through the events as they happened.”

“What about your partner?” Justin asked. “Certainly, you don’t intend to keep him waiting. I figure it’ll take four or five hours before I’m through here.

“Steve didn’t come. He went home to his wife and kids.”

“You came up here by yourself? Isn’t that kind of dangerous? What if something were to happen to you?”

Kimberly laughed. “What about you? You’re up here all by yourself.”

“It’s different.”

“Why? Because you’re a man? You can take care of yourself, while poor little defenseless me is here all by herself.”

“Why do I have a feeling that you are better at this than I am?”

“Because I grew up here. When I was a kid, I spent more time here in the woods than I did in school, much to the disappointment of my parents.”

“Well, since we have time to kill, what’s your story?” Justin asked as he leaned back in the wooden chair.

“You mean why am I not married with the required two or three children and an ex-husband,” Kimberly answered with a grin.

“We can start with that. Then you can tell me how you became a cop in a town where the idea of a lively Saturday night consists of college kids getting stoned.”

Kimberly stood up. “Hey if I’m going to tell you my life story, we’re changing seats. I want to be comfortable.”

“I was here first. Why should I have to give up the only comfortable chair in the place?”

“Because you want to hear my story. Now get up.”

Justin chuckled as he relinquished the chair. “You have the chair. Now let’s hear your story.”

Kimberly made sure to give a sigh of comfort as she sat down. “I guess it started with me growing up here in this town. I even went to college here. After I graduated with a degree in criminal justice, I took a job in LA and joined the police force there. After several years and a talent for dealing with women victims, I found myself working as a detective. I would still be out there if it weren’t for my father dying. I came back for the funeral, discovered I liked it better here than smog-filled LA, so I stayed.”

Justin leaned back against a log and stretched his legs out. “What about the rest of the family? Your mother? Any brothers or sisters?”

“My, my,” Kimberly replied pretending to be coy. “All these questions.”

“And very few answers.”

“Well, my mother is alive and kicking and enjoying life as the owner of a bridal shop. She also does some catering on the side. My only sibling, my sister, works with my mother. Together, they run the gossip mill in this area.”

“What about a husband, kids, pets, stray animals that have adopted you?”

“Nope. No husband, no kids, no pets, no stray animals. Not that I wouldn’t like to have them, but I haven’t found the time or the right person, yet. What about you?”

“I thought you knew all about me.”

Kimberly smiled. “I know you served. According to my sister, you’re still single, but you were dating another lawyer until she got a job offer in D.C. Anything to add?”

“I have a cat. It kind of came with the house I’m renting.”

“What’s its name?”

“I call him Gibb Cat, it’s a Shakespearean term for stray cat.”

Kimberly got out of the chair. “So, you live alone with a stray cat, and you take on murder cases pro bono.”

Justin stood up. “Got to have something to look forward to when you get up in the morning.”

“It’s getting dark,” Kimberly stated as she stretched her arm. “We should get going. I know it’s early, but you’ll get the idea of what happened.”

“No, I want to hear what Mike heard and see what Mike saw. Everything took place a night.”

“The coroner put time of death between six to eight o’clock at night. It’s almost six thirty. This would be about the time Wild Mike would have killed Raymond.”

“You found Mike and the victim down by the shoreline; isn’t that right? But you don’t really know where he supposedly killed Raymond Carlsen.” Justin asked. According to your theory, you think Mike left his camp around now, went down to the shoreline, killed Carlsen, and hung around there for a couple of hours, then dumped the body?”

Kimberly crossed her arms. “Truthfully, I can’t figure out the timeline yet.”

“Well then, I’m going to follow Mike’s story.”

“What is that?”

“According to Mike, he was here when he heard some noises and saw some lights down at the lake. When he got down there, that’s when he heard a splash. After several minutes, he saw something in the water, and he realized it was a body. That’s when he went in and pulled it out.”

“But there were no drag marks,” Kimberly stated.

Justin held up his hand. “He carried the body out. That’s why you found blood on his shirt, and no signs of a struggle.”

“It’s hard to tell if there was a fight, especially at night, with a bunch of police officers tramping around the place.”

“I can understand that. But I want to wait to see if there are any lights or noise coming from the lake and whether they can be seen from here.”

Kimberly uncrossed her arm and moved to the edge of the camp site. She turned to face Justin. “I’ll save you the trouble. Yes, you can see lights and hear noises from the lake up here. Take a look. You can see the lake and some kids on jet skis out there. And you can even hear the skis from up here. You don’t need to wait for nightfall, so let’s get going.”

Justin was a bit embarrassed at failing to notice something so obvious. “I still want to wait until nightfall to see how Mike would have gotten from here to the shoreline.”

“Wild Mike knows these woods as well as you know your apartment. He’s capable of moving down to the shoreline quickly and quietly; something you won’t be able to do in the dark. If fact, you would be lucky to make it down there without tripping over something and breaking a bone. Now, I know I’m not as good as Wild Mike, so I’m going down while there is still enough daylight to see where I’m going. And, you should come too. There is no need to wait until dark.”

Justin relented to Kimberly’s logic, and joined her as she led him down the path.

* * * * *

“Well, here we are again,” Kimberly said when they got to the crime scene.

Justin walked around the area. “It’s hard to tell what happened with all of the tracks and impressions here.”

“What do you want to know?”

“The facts,” Justin stated. “Someone calls the police reporting a fight. A patrol unit arrives, finds Mike with Carlsen, who is dead. The police are on the road, the lake is here, Mike is in the middle. He panics and runs. Where did you finally catch him?”

“Not quite,” Kimberly chuckled. “Wild Mike doesn’t panic. He’s a former Marine sniper. He’s been in a lot of tougher spots than this. And, I’m sure he’s dealt with dead bodies before.”

“Sounds like you think he’s innocence.”

“Innocence, no,” Kimberly answered. “But honestly, I don’t think he killed Raymond Carlsen. When I cornered him at the boathouse, which is about a mile from here, he surrendered. He was thinking clearly. Don’t get me wrong; if he could have gotten away, he would have. But he knew he had been identified. He knew running wasn’t going to help.’

Justin took note of the view from the shoreline. It was dark, but he could see there were a couple of motorboats out on the lake. The lights from the homes on the hill overlooking the lake casted shadows along most of the shoreline, but there were patches where the moon light shined through.

“Was there a full moon the night Carlsen was killed?” Justin asked.

“No, but there was a full moon a couple of days earlier. But the moon was bright enough and the night was clear. You could see someone standing on the shoreline if he moved out of the shadows.”

“Still, the autopsy showed Carlsen was killed at least an hour, possibly two, before the patrol unit showed up. Why was Mike still here? If he had killed Carlsen, he wouldn’t have hung around waiting for the police.”

“I agree,” Kimberly replied. “I mean the arrest the night of the murder was justified. We had a dead body, Wild Mike was seen with the victim, he had blood on his shirt, he ran away. Taking him into custody was called for.”

“So why is he being charged with murder?”

“Simple. We don’t know who really killed Carlsen,” Kimberly answered. She started down the path toward the marina, then she turned to face Justin. “I mean, it could have been someone else; but it could also have been Wild Mike.”

* * * * *

Chapter Four

Justin admired the large Tutor home with vines growing around the window shutters. On both sides of the front porch were flower beds stretching out to the half circle driveway with enough room to park at least a dozen cars. He rang the doorbell, which he heard through the heavy wooden door. After several seconds of silence, he rang it again. Still, there was no answer. Justin decided to circle the home to see if there were any signs of someone being there.

It took him almost two full minutes to make his way to the back of the house where he found a nude woman sunbathing on a lawn couch. Justin quickly turned around and loudly cleared his throat.

“Oh, don’t be such a prude,” the naked lady said as she lazily turned on to her stomach. “If it bothers you so much, hand me my robe and I will cover up.”

Justin timidly stepped backward till he could find the robe. He continued to move backwards to avoid having to look at the woman. He handed her the robe.

Justin heard a slight groan and sigh. “You can turn around now,” the woman said.

Justin turned around just as the woman was pulling her long red hair from beneath the collar of the robe, which was open, revealing two perky breasts and a dark triangle of public hair. The woman of Hispanic heritage was in her early thirties, had a sensual hour-glass figure, tanned skin without any bikini lines, dark eyes, and a perfect complexion. Modesty was not one of her attributes.

“Do you think you could. . .” Justin said motioning to the woman and her terrycloth robe.

The woman closed the robe and tied the cloth belt. While it covered her body, it left nothing to imagination about this woman physical attributes. “Who are you and what do you want?” she demanded as she picked up a glass of orange juice.

“I’m Justin Ainsley. I’m a lawyer. . .”

“Sweetheart, what makes you think I need a lawyer?

“I’m hoping you don’t. I’m a criminal defense attorney. A couple of nights ago, there was a homicide down by the lake.”

“Yeah, I know. I saw the lights down there. I heard they caught the guy who did it.”

“Yes, the police do have a suspect in custody. I’m his lawyer.”

The woman chuckled as she set her glass of orange juice down on a table. “And you want to know if I saw what happened?”

Justin pulled out a small notebook from his pocket. “You are Ms. Ava Shimley, right?”

“That’s right sweetie.”

Justin walked to the edge of the back yard and looked down at the lake. “Can you tell me what you saw that night?”




“Excuse me, but do you mind if I ask if anyone else was here? Possibly one of your staff?”

“The staff had the night off.”

“What about your husband, or maybe another family member?”

“I’m a widow. Why? Are you getting ideas?”

“That’s flattering, but I am really here on business.”

“A man with morals. My, my, what I am going to do with you?”

“Can we focus on you and your family? Is there anyone else living here? Someone who might have seen what happened the other night?”

“I’m sorry to say I was here all by myself. Not that I wouldn’t like to have had company, but that night, no such luck.”

“Is there anything you can tell me about that night?”

Ava Shimley returned to her lawn couch and removed her robe. “Sweetie, all I saw was a bunch of lights. Now unless you want something else, bye bye.”

Justin could tell Ava enjoyed making him uncomfortable as she coyly lifted her arms showing her entire naked body. “Appreciate your time, but I think I’ve got all I need.” Justin gave Ava a small salute as he left.

* * * * *

The public defenders’ office occupied the fifth floor of the public services building. The first floor was a lobby with a small newsstand selling coffee and snacks. The other floors of the building held offices for public works, and a gym for the people who worked in the building. Justin made it a point to use the stairs instead of the elevator. He exited the stairwell and made his way to the office he shared with his associate Wendy Codwell.

Wendy was seated at her desk working on her computer. “It’s about time you came in. It’s almost lunchtime. What happened? Had a rough night?”

“Went to see Ms. Ava Shimley, Nicole Welsh’s neighbor,” Justin answered. “Turns out she’s a bit of tease.”

“Oh, I know all about Mrs. Shimley. At least your morning was more interesting than mine. I’ve been going over the police reports, the autopsy report, and the chains of custody. Nothing like checking all the paperwork to brighten one’s morning.”

“Find anything interesting?”

Wendy leaned back in chair. “You read the police report. Someone called in a prowler down by the lake. A unit was dispatched. They found our client with the victim. Our client ran, they chased him down, he was arrested. Later, they searched the client’s personal belongings and found the victim’s wallet and cell phone. So far, everything looks like it was done by the book. They had probable cause, a warrant, didn’t violate the client’s rights, nothing out of place.”

“How did young Raymond die?”

“Stop that,” Wendy commanded. “Don’t personalize this. It’s the ‘victim,’ not ‘young Raymond.’ Don’t think of us being here to fight for the victims or the clients. We’re here to do a job, not to fight crusades.”

“What about providing the best legal defense we can for those who can’t afford a lawyer? That’s not a crusade; it’s our job.”

Wendy pointed at Justin with the pen in her hand. “If you start riding horses and attacking windmills, I’m getting another partner. Remember, Don Quixote was a work of fiction.”

“Okay, okay. What about the autopsy report?’

“No surprise there. He was beaten to death.”

“So, Raymond, I mean the victim, was killed somewhere else, then dumped in the lake.”

Wendy pulled out a piece of paper. “There is one piece of good news. The VA counselor is willing to talk to you about Mr. Richards.”

“You mean our client.”

* * * * *

The VA Center was a huge H-shaped building with mental health on one side, physical rehabilitation and primary care on the other, and the waiting room in the center. In the middle of the waiting room was a courtesy counter with fresh coffee, fruit, and cookies. Justin wanted a cookie but decided to get a cup of coffee instead. He sat down and picked up one of the many veterans’ magazines in the waiting area. Before he could open the magazine to the first page, a short, middle-age Black man came out of the mental health offices and called for Justin. Justin followed the individual to a private office located in the maze behind the door leading into the offices of the mental health practitioners.

“I’m Phillip Donley,” the man said as he motioned for Justin to take a seat in front of the man’s desk. “Before we begin, I need to see some identification and the proper paperwork.”

Justin handed the man his driver’s license and the required forms. As the individual looked over the papers, Justin took note of the office. There were the required diplomas on the wall as well as several reproductions of paintings of sailboats. As with most offices, there were bookcases with shelves of books and memorabilia.

Phillip handed the papers and driver’s license back to Justin. “So, what can I do for you?”

“I need to know about Mike Richards. He’s been charged with murder. Anything you could tell me would be useful.”

Phillip leaned forward and placed his elbows on the desk. “You want to know if Mike could have killed someone. The answer is yes. The Marine Corps trained him to kill, and according to his service record, he was exceptionally good at it. He was a sniper, trained to kill a person hundreds of yards away with a single shot from a rifle.”

Justin raise his hand to interrupt Phillip. “I know he was trained and capable of killing. What I need to know is if he is suffering from any kind of psychological trauma that would cause him to lose control and kill a person in a fit of rage?”

“Well, Mike was suffering from PTSD. But his outbursts were limited to destruction of property.”

“I don’t quite understand?”

“Think of it as an adult throwing a temper tantum. He’s angry. He wants things to change, but he doesn’t want to hurt anyone.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” Phillip answered. “He moved out of his house to be away from his wife so that he wouldn’t hurt her when he lost his temper. He started living out in the woods near the lake. Since he moved out there, he’s had fewer outbursts and was coming to counseling. I wouldn’t say he’s well, but he is getting better.”

“But it’s still possible for him the lose control and kill someone?”

“It will always be possible for him to kill, but whether he would lose control of his emotions, that’s hard to say. It would depend on the circumstances and the amount of stress he was under at the time.”

“So, you think he could and would kill someone if that person pissed him off.”

Phillip shook his head. “Did you know Mike earned the Navy Commendation Medal with a Combat V?”

“Yes, I reviewed his service record.”

“Do you know how he earned it?”

Justin shrugged his shoulders. “I assumed he saved some Marines or killed a lot of terrorists.”

“Not at all. He saved a family from being killed by other Marines who had faulty intelligence. Somehow, Mike figured out the family was being set up so that a terrorist group could blame Americans for killing innocence civilians. Mike stood in front of the Marines who had their weapons on the family. It caused a lot friction between him and the others in the unit, but everyone recognized his courage. Mike was trained to kill, but he has a real moral code. He is more interested in protecting the innocence and helpless than he is in getting revenge. Like I said, he’s capable, but it’s unlikely he would do anything without a very good reason.”

Justin took a minute to compose his next question. “If he says he didn’t kill the person, you would believe him?”

“Mike may have issues, but one thing for sure, he’s honest. He doesn’t lie.”

* * * * *

“Hey, our shift is almost over,” Tindall complained as Justin walked into the detectives’ office. “Couldn’t you come back tomorrow?”

“I could,” Justin answered the detective. “But the autopsy report raised some questions about the case.” Justin nodded to Kimberly as he looked around the detective division of the police station. The detectives called the common room the bull pen, where each detective had his or her own desk. The desks were arranged in pairs, facing each other to make it easier for the detectives to talk to their partners. Beside each desk, was a chair for the suspect or witness a detective wanted to question. There were four of these workstations in the bullpen. Along two walls were four rooms for private conversations. Holding and booking facilities were located downstairs.

“Yeah, I figured,” Tindall replied. “The report said Carlsen didn’t drown; he was beaten to death.”

Justin moved to the front of Tindall’s desk. “If Carlsen was beaten to death elsewhere, then where you found Mike and Carlsen was not the crime scene.”

Tindall turned to face Kimberly. “I love this.” Tindall turned back to Justin. “You know as well as I do, wherever we find a body, it’s a crime scene. Yes, there may be a second crime scene, but that doesn’t mean your client is off the hook.”

“Carlsen was killed somewhere else,” Justin stated. “Have you looked for another crime scene? Have you considered the possibility of another suspect? The possibility of Mike being innocent?”

Tindall looked to Kimberly, who got up from her desk. “This is an open police investigation,” Tindall stated. “Of course we’re looking into all possibilities.”

“Any chance of getting my client released?”

“That’s up to the judge,” Kimberly answered.

“So, Mike is still stuck in jail,” Justin replied.

“That’s right,” Tindall stated.

“Any suggestions on what I can do to help my client?”

Kimberly grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair. “You can take me to dinner.”

“How is that going to help Mike?”

“To find out, you’ll want to take me to dinner.”

Justin chuckled. “Who says I want to take you to dinner?”

“I do,” Kimberly answered with a grin.

* * * * *

The owner knew people came to a bar for four things: cold beer, strong drinks, good food, and good music; and the Cactus Rose Saloon was known for all of these. Waitresses were young, sexy, and good looking. The bouncers were big, strong, and not known for their gentle nature. The owner furnished the bar with picnic tables and mismatched bar stools along the bar. There was a band stand for local musicians to play country and western music on Thursday and Friday nights. The owner also kept an extremely large-screen TV for sport parties on the weekends. Any other time, loud music blared over loudspeakers, forcing patrons to yell in they wanted to hold a conversation.

“First time,” Kimberly asked as she and Justin entered the bar.

“I tend to stick to take out or cooking prepared dinners at home.”

“Well, you’re going to love this place.”

Justin noted the young waitresses dressed in shorts and tight tee shirts. “Kind of a cheap knock-off of Hooters.”

“This place specializes in cheap. But the food is good.”

“Kind of loud, isn’t it,” Justin shouted.

Kimberly leaned over to speak in Justin ear. “Like I said, people come here for the food and cold beer. Trust me, you’re going to like the place.” She led Justin to one of the picnic tables towards the back.

A young brunette wearing a tee shirt advertising the Cactus Rose Saloon came over and handed Kimberly and Justin menus. Her nametag identified her as Amber. “What can I get you from the bar?” the pretty brunette asked.

“Two longnecks, Coronas with extra lime,” Kimberly answered. She turned to Justin. “Anything for you?” she playfully asked.

“Naw, I’ll just steal one of yours.”

“Got it. Two Coronas,” Amber the waitress repeated. “I’ll bring them right out. Take a minute to look at the menus. All burgers come with one quarter pickle and our famous Cactus Rose fries.”

Cactus Rose fries?” Justin inquired.

“They French fries seasoned with garlic butter, jalapeno peppers, and powdered cheese,” Amber explained. “They’re our most popular item. Of course, you can order onion rings, potato salad, coleslaw, or macaroni salad instead. Seriously, look over the menu, I’m sure you’ll find something you like. Now let me get you those beers, I’ll be right back.”

Justin spent as much as time watching the young brunette with her hair tied in a ponytail as he did looking at the menu. Kimberly knew what she wanted so she spent her time watching Justin trying to admire the attractive waitress without Amber noticing. She, noticed. As long as the gentleman looked and didn’t take advantage of the situation, Amber felt flattered and pleased that someone with good manners would show some interest in her.

Kimberly reached out and tapped Justin’s hand. “The waitresses here are cute, but you need to read the menu if you want to order dinner,”

“Any suggestions.’

“Burgers are good, but what’s really good here are the fajitas.”

Amber returned with two beers and took Justin’s and Kimberly’s orders. Justin smiled as Amber walked away. He turned his attention to Kimberly. “Well, other than enjoying this pleasant atmosphere, why did you bring me here?”

“Thought we could exchange information. We’ve got a lot against Wild Mike. But I would like to hear what you’ve found out.”

“I’ve told you all that I know, which is mostly the information in the police reports.”

Kimberly took a drink from her beer. “And what about your visit to Nicole Welsh? What did she tell you?”

Justin chuckled. “To get out of her house.”

“And what did you find out?”

“That she has a good view of the shoreline where Carlsen was killed. Her and a Ms. Ava Shimley.”

Kimberly took another drink of her beer. “I’m sure your encounter with Ms. Shimley was more than interesting.”

“What’s her story?”

“There are more stories about that woman than there are tattoos in the Seventh Fleet, and some are more interesting than others. But if you really want to know about the folks on High Road, you need to talk to the experts.”

“High Road?

“That’s what the locals call the development overlooking the lake, especially since they don’t allow locals access to the lake through their property.”

“And what about these experts you mentioned? Who are they?”

“Meet me at the station tomorrow at nine o’clock, and I’ll take you to meet the experts,” Kimberly said, grinning at Justin.

Justin raised his bottle to Kimberly. “A mystery date. This should be interesting.”

  • * * * * *

Chapter Five

The chime rang as Kimberly and Justin entered the shop. An attractive middle-aged woman greeted the couple as the door closed. “Welcome to Simmons Bridal Boutique. Please tell me you are here because my oldest is finally getting married.”

“I beg your pardon,” a confused Justin said.

Kimberly went over to a counter separating the front of the shop from the back where wedding gowns, tuxedos, and other wedding paraphernalia were located. There were three small sofas with a table in front of each. These were where the brides and families gathered to plan the weddings, the receptions, and other details of the big day. On the counter were two coffee pots, one regular and one decaf, a hot water bottle for tea, and a large platter of assorted cookies. Kimberly grabbed two cookies and with them in her hand, pointed to the middle-aged woman with short blond hair and a litter-Coke-bottle figure. “Justin, meet my mother, Rhonda Simmons, the owner of this fine establishment.”

The woman extended her hand to Justin. “Glad to meet you. You know you’re the first man she’s ever brought to the shop. I’m hoping this is for a social occasion.”

“Not quite,” Kimberly mumbled with a mouthful of cookies. She waved to a woman entering from the back of the shop. “And this is my younger sister, Janet.”

Justin shook Rhonda’s hand and nodded to the woman walking toward Kimberly. “Pleasure to meet the two of you.”

The younger sister, Janet, smiled and waved for Justin to come farther into the shop. “Come on in,” she said. “Have some cookies and coffee and tell us what you want.”

“Yes, yes,” Rhonda said as she took Justin by the arm and led him to one of the sofas in the shop. “So how did you and Kimberly meet?”

“Mom, switch to decaf,” Kimberly said as she reached for two more cookies. “Justin here is the lawyer for Wild Mike, who has been charged with murder. He needs some information about the people involved in the case.”

“So you came to us,” Janet replied with a giggle.

“That’s right,” Kimberly answered. “There isn’t a better, more actuate gossip mill in the entire county. Let’s face it. He’s going to find out more here about the people involved than he ever will from court records.”

Rhonda and Janet laughed. “Well, you’ve come to the right place,” Rhonda stated. “I’ve known Mike Richards since he was in diapers. He was a good kid, and a great athlete. He was an all-state swimming champ. I swear that boy was born with gills. He swam like a fish. He was more at home in the water than he was on land. Of course, all that changed when he went into the Marine Corps.”

“What happened?” Justin asked.

“What do you think happened?” Janet answered. “He went to war. It tore him up something terrible. When he came back, he lost that carefree innocence he had. He must have done some really bad things over there; then I suspect most people who see combat aren’t happy with what they have to do to survive. It seems he hates himself more than he hates the enemy.”

“I heard he got into a lot of fights,” Justin stated.

Janet snickered. “If you went into a bar and he was there, best you move onto another place. I remember this one time a guy came up to Mike and wanted to buy him a drink, a kind of a thank you for your service. Mike told the guy to go away and leave him alone. Guess the guy didn’t like that. He insisted on buying Mike a drink. Next thing you know Mike decks the guy. Mike stood there yelling at the guy, who was too scared to get up. Mike was still screaming at him when the police arrived and arrested him.”

“You know a lot about Mike,” Justin commented.

“We should,” Rhonda answered. “He grew up around here. I helped his wife, Kristen, who is a real sweet girl, pick out her wedding dress. Still see that darling girl every now and then.”

“Know anything about the victim, Raymond Carlsen?” Justin asked.

Janet and Rhonda exchanged looks. “Not really,” Rhonda answered. “I know he’s the son of Phillip Carlsen, who is a state senator. Phillip was a personal injury lawyer before he went into politics. I know he’s thick as thieves with that lawyer Nicole Welsh. Now there’s a woman who has lots of skeletons in her closet.” Both Janet and Rhonda giggled.

“I understand Raymond was working for Ms. Welsh,” Justin said.

Rhonda wave her hand at Justin. “Honey, working in not the word for it. That woman hires a bunch of law students, and they spend more time running personal errands for that woman than anything else. I would be surprised if they spent more than two hours a day in the office. I also wouldn’t be surprised if some of her personal favors were more than errands, if you get what I mean.”

“I thought Ms. Welsh was married.”

Rhonda laughed again. “Her and her husband must have an open marriage with all the young men and women spending so much time, including some nights, up there on High Road.”

“And she ain’t the only one,” Janet added. “Her neighbors are just as bad.”

Kimberly poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Justin. “Did you talk to any of the neighbors?”

“I’ve been able to contact only one of them, a Ms. Ava Shimley.”

Kimberly smiled but Rhonda and Janet laughed. “Bet she was naked,” Janet said still laughing.

Justin blushed. “How did you know that?”

“We’ve heard stories,” Rhonda answered.

“What’s her story?” Justin asked.

“She’s a gold digger, she is,” Rhonda replied. “About five years ago, Charles Shimley goes down to Puerto Rico for a golfing holiday. He met Ava, where she was working at a casino. Well, the old fart takes a liking to her, and before you know it, they’re married. Lasted about three years, then Charles dies of a heart attack. But he left her a boatload of money. The woman is the vending machine queen; she owns just about every vending machine in the county. She’s doing quite well. I should know. I’ve catered several of her parties. She’s another one who likes them young. I can tell from most of her guests.”

Justin took a sip of coffee. “Anyone else up there I should know about?”

“Oh, my goodness,” Janet exclaimed. “Take your pick. You’ve got Bradner Hansen, Nicole Welsh’s husband. He runs Hansen Realty over on Fifth Street. He’s as bad as his wife. He manages to have an awful lot of business dinner and lunches with the young female lawyers working at his wife’s firm. There’s also Adam Lingenfleter. He was a lawyer, but he’s now working at the college. He’s at all the parties on High Road. Some say he and Nicole were a couple before she married Bradner.”

“Well having loose morals is one thing. What I need to know is there anyone else who would want to kill Raymond Carlsen?”

Rhonda went over to the coffee pot and poured herself a cup. “Don’t know about Raymond, although I’m sure there’s a long list of people who wish to see his father, Phillip, under a headstone.”

Kimberly’s cell phone rang. The others in the shop were silent as she answered it. Other than a brief acknowledgement of understanding, Kimberly said very little until she finished the call. She placed her phone back in her pocket and turned to Justin. “We’re going to have to cut this short. Steve needs to see us up at the lake.”


“Detective Tindall. He found something. Something you are going to want to see.”

  • * * * * *

The ride to the lake was an uncomfortable twenty minutes of silence for Justin, especially with Kimberly speeding along the road. They pulled into the parking lot of the marina. A crowd had gathered to watch a tow truck pull a red Chevy from the water. Detective Tindall was standing next to the tow truck with two patrol officers who made a half-hearted attempt at crowd control.

“What have you got?” Kimberly said as she approached the detective.

“An used car. Can let you have if really cheap.”

“Already have a car. What do you have?”

Tindall pointed to the red Chevy attached to the tow truck. “Here is Raymond Carlsen’s car.”

“How did you find it?” Justin asked.

“Police work,” Tindall answered. “Carlsen lived in an apartment on Funderburg Drive, which is about twelve miles from here. Now, Wild Mike could cover that distance easily in a couple of hours, but I doubt he would go all the way there to find some kid who insulted him a couple of days ago, then drag the body back to the lake. Therefore, I’m willing to bet Carlsen came out here to the lake, where he met up with Wild Mike, whether by design or accident doesn’t matter. Now, we found Carlsen’s body and his personal effects, but not his car.”

“Still haven’t told me how you found it,” Justin commented.

“My, my, impatient aren’t you,” Tindall replied. “I came out here and started talking to some of the regulars. People have been fishing off the pier for ages, but now several of them are complaining about something tangling their fishing lines. They figured it was leftover construction material. I took a look and found signs of tire tracks. I got our divers to go out and look. Sure enough. They found the car.”

Justin walked over to the car. “Carlsen’s body was found almost two miles away, on the other side of the lake. How do you explain his body being so far from his car?”

“Well, I can only guess,” Tindall said slowly. “But Wild Mike knows this area very well, and he’s one hell of a swimmer. He could have killed Carlsen, brought the car here, dumped it in the lake and then swam across to where he left the body. Or he could have dumped the car and taken Carlsen, who was still alive and able to walk, to where we found the body.”

Justin nodded his head in agreement. “Yes, it could have happened that way. But why wouldn’t he simple place the body in the trunk and then dump the car in the lake?”

“Maybe he got rattled,” Tindall answered. “It’s possible he wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“You don’t believe that for a moment,” Justin said, “and neither do I.”

  • * * * * *

“Appreciate you giving me a ride back to town,” Justin said to Kimberly.

“Well, I couldn’t leave you out there at the marina. Wouldn’t be neighborly.”

“Still, I appreciate it. When do you think forensics will get their report to us?”

Kimberly shrugged her shoulder. “Don’t know. It being in the water for five days doesn’t make thing easier. To be honest, I doubt they will find anything useful. Of course, I will get you a copy as soon as they finish.”

They pulled into the police station parking lot. “Mind if I talk to Mike?” Justin asked.

“He’s your client. Can’t stop you.”


Kimberly escorted Justin into the police station and to an interview room. She then instructed a patrol officer to bring Mike to Justin. It took a few minutes, but soon Mike appeared. This time his hands were shackled in front of him, but there were none on his legs.

Mike sat down at the table across from Justin. “Why haven’t you gotten me out of here? What about bail?”

Justin pulled out a notepad. “Mike, you were in court when the judge denied you bail.”

“So why are you here?”

Justin shook his pen at Mike. “Pretend you’re the Jolly Green Giant and can the crap. I’m here to help you. I don’t need attitude. I need honest answers.”

“You want honest answers. Then you spend your days and nights here in jail.”

“I said it before, and I’ll say it again. If you want out of here, you’re going to have to work with me.”

Mike raised his hands to show the shackles on them. “Yeah right. What do you want to know?”

“Let’s start with that night. Why did you go down to the lake?

“I told you. It was the lights.”

“How do you explain having Carlsen’s hat?”

“Found it on the beach. That’s it. I found it.

“What about Carlsen’s wallet and cell phone at your camp?”

“I don’t know anything about that. I didn’t take them. Why would I? I don’t need the money and I certainly don’t need a cell phone.”

“How well did you know Carlsen?”

“I didn’t. I see kids down at marina when I go down there, but that’s all. I don’t mess with them unless they mess with me. I told you the last time what happened. I heard some noise, saw some light, so I went down to the beach. I saw a boat. I heard a splash and knew they threw something overboard. When the boat left and I realized it was a body, I swam out and brought it back to the beach. That’s when the police showed up and I took off.”

“Why did you run?” Justin asked. “Why didn’t you just tell the police you found the body and about the boat?”

“They seemed bound and determined to arrest me. It wouldn’t have mattered what I said.”

“Why do you believe that?”

“It was something they said.”

“What did they say?”

“They said ‘We have a killer here with a body,’ then they drew their guns. They were convinced I had killed that boy as soon as they saw me.”

“One last question,” Justin said as he leaned back in his chair. “What did you do with Carlsen’s car?”

Mike stared back at Justin with a confused look. “Car? What car?”

  • * * * * *

Chapter Six

Justin sipped his coffee as he admired the energy these students had so early in the morning. The first class was at eight, and students with backpacks, coffee, and paper bags containing either doughnuts or breakfast sandwiches were rushing to class. Justin looked over the list of names Wendy had given him. Realizing the difficulty in finding students attending classes, he decided to visit Carlsen’s professor, Adam Lingenfleter.

Justin found Lingenfleter’s office, located on the fifth floor of the Law School, was empty. His office hours were posted from nine to twelve each weekday. Justin had an hour before Lingenfleter was scheduled to be in his office. He was about to go to one of the student cafes when he noticed a rather rotund individual carrying a briefcase. He was a bit on the short side, had a fair complexion, light brown hair, and dressed in jeans, a tee shirt, and a corduroy jacket.

“Professor Lingenfleter?” Justin asked as he approached the individual.

“Yes,” the man answered. “What can I do for you?”

Justin put out his hand. “I’m Justin Ainsley. I’m the defense attorney for Mike Richards.”

“You mean that animal that killed Richard. I’m not interested in anything you have to say.”

Justin dropped his hand and stood in front of Lingenfleter. “You can talk to me here, or under a subpoena. I can’t imagine that would be good for your reputation, especially here at the law school.”

Lingenfleter glared at Justin. “Step into my office,” he commanded. “I don’t want to have this conversation here in the hallway.”

Justin followed Lingenfleter to his office. Lingenfleter opened the door and motioned for Justin to take a seat. Lingenfleter took off his jacket and hung it on a hook on the back of the door before closing it.

Lingenfleter took his seat behind his desk. “First of all, I don’t like to be threatened; so what do you want to know?”

“What can you tell me about Raymond Carlsen.?

Lingenfleter grunted. “He was one of my best students. I arranged for him, along, with other students, internships with local law firms.”

“Yes, I know. Raymond’s internship was with Nicole Welsh and her firm. I understand you two are neighbors.”

“So, Nicole and I are friends. What’s wrong with that?”

“She lives in a really expensive neighborhood. I’m surprised you can afford a house there.”

“I used to practice law. I managed to make a good living back then.”

“But now, you’re a professor, making a less money. How can you still manage to afford such a place?”

“Not that it’s any of your business; but I do have savings. Now, what do my finances have to do with you defending the butcher who killed Raymond?”

“Nothing really,” Justin answered. “Let’s get back to Raymond. Do you know what kind of work he was doing at Nicole Welsh’s firm?”

“I’m sure you are aware of privileged communication between an attorney and client, that extends to everyone working in the law office. They are not allowed to discuss anything they hear or see in the office. But you know that.”

“What I am curious about is was Raymond working on anything that could have gotten him killed?”

Lingenfleter let out a small laugh. “You know as well as I do, interns do grunt work; make copies, run errands, pick up coffee and lunch orders, and if they are lucky, maybe, just maybe, they do some research on case law that might apply to a case the firm is currently working on. But dealing with anything sensitive or dangerous, no possible way.”

“Then why was he killed?”

“Because that animal you are defending killed him for no good reason.”

“I doubt that. Besides, it is necessary for me to look into the possibility of other suspects, the possibility that someone else killed Raymond.”

“Well, I can’t help you. I know nothing about what Raymond was doing at Nicole’s firm.”

“What about Raymond the student?” Justin asked. “What about his friends?”

“I was Raymond’s teacher, not his buddy. I wasn’t in his social circle.”

Justin nodded he understood. “You mentioned you placed other students in internships. Did you place any other students with Nicole’s firm?”

“Just one. Dale Knief.”

“How can I find this Dale Knief?”

“I can have him contact you if you leave me your information.”

Justin stood up and gave Lingenfleter business card. “Appreciate that. If I need anything else, I’ll be sure to contact you.” Justin noticed Lingenfleter was happy to see him leave.

  • * * * * *

There is an universal truth about law school, actually all graduate schools; even with the internet, it still holds true, graduate students spend a lot of their time in the library. Justin wasn’t disappointed. It took him less than ten minutes to find a group of law students gathered in a back corner discussing court cases and possible questions for an upcoming exam.

“Good morning,” Justin said approaching the group. “I take it you’re law students.”

A young woman with her raven-black hair tied in a ponytail replied. “That’s right. Is there something we can do for you?”

Justin nodded to the woman who answered him. She was dressed in blue jeans with a grey Army tee shirt, which accented her slender figure. “I’m Justin Ainsley. I’m a defense attorney and hoping that maybe some of you can help me with a case I have.”

“Is this a paying job?” a young man with muscles bulging from his blue polo shirt asked. “We all have internships where we work for college credit, so if you’re looking for free help. . .”

“Calm down,” the woman in the Army tee shirt said. “I’m Deborah Laounty,” she said as she began to introduce the group. “The guy over there is Josh Lamica. The girl with the ball cap is Mary Stott, and the last one is Jessica Behrens. You’re right about us being law students, but we really don’t know much about criminal law.”

Justin smiled and waved to each person in turn. “I don’t need any legal advice. I have a partner who gives me plenty of that. What I’m trying to do is find friends of someone who was a law student here. Do any of you know Raymond Carlsen?”

Jessica was a blond with short hair and a fondness for purple, or so it seemed from her outfit of a purple blouse, purple earrings, and purple lipstick. “Of course we know Raymond. His father is a state senator. We all know it’s who you know that will get you a good job after law school. But Raymond was killed last week. How can we help you?”

“I’m trying to find out what kind of person Raymond was. Maybe he was mixed up in something that could have gotten him killed.”

“I know who you are,” Josh, muscular man, forcefully stated. “You’re the defense attorney for the guy who killed Raymond.”

“Is that what you’re trying to do?” Deborah, the woman in the Army tee, asked. “You’re going to put Raymond, the victim, on trial, instead of the person who killed him.”

Justin held up his hands to calm the group. “Look, I know most people around here don’t like my client, Mike Richards; but I have to provide him with the best defense possible. And that means finding out everything I can about the people involved. I’m not trying to ruin Raymond’s reputation or anything. But I do have to explore the possibility that someone else may have wanted to harm him.”

“You need to explore the fact that Wild Mike was a pervert,” Jessica responded. “He was always watching us whenever we went to the lake.”

“What do you mean?” Justin asked.

“What Jessica means, is every time we went to the lake, we would see Wild Mike on shore with his binoculars, which I’m sure he used to watch us,” Deborah explained.

“How do you know he was watching you?” Justin asked.

Both Deborah and Jessica stood up and proudly displayed their figures. “Mister, we don’t have these figures and wear bikinis without wanting to attract attention. Of course the guys we want to attract are guys are our age, certainly not some old guy living in the woods.”

“I understand,” Justin acknowledged. “Other than watching you with binoculars, did Mike harass or do anything?”

“No, not really,” Jessica replied. “I mean he creeped us out by standing on shore and looking at us; but he never really bothered us. We would see him at the marina sometimes; but I don’t remember him even talking to us.”

“That’s true,” Deborah said. “The only time I ever remember him saying anything to us was pick up some trash we left. He certainly didn’t hit on us.”

“So other than being a bit weird to you guys, he never spoke or caused you any harm?” Justin stated.

“Well,” Deborah added, “other than killing Raymond Carlsen, no.”

  • * * * * *

Justin was on his way to his car when is cell phone rang. “Good morning. Justin Ainsley.”

“You the lawyer defending the piece of crap that killed Raymond Carlsen?” a female voice at the other end of the phone call asked.”

“Yes, I’m Mike Richards attorney.”

“Meet me at the Student Saloon in thirty minutes.”

“How will I know you?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll know you.” The voice hung up.

  • * * * * *

The Student Saloon was located in the basement of the same building as the student cafeteria and book store. Like most bars, the lighting was dimmed. There was a long counter serving as the bar and several small tables arranged throughout the room, which was large enough to hold at least two hundred people. The smell of pizza, the most popular dish on the menu, was the overwhelming odor in the air. Justin ordered a soft drink and found an empty table.

Justin had finished half of his drink when a young woman with long dark hair approached his table. She was wearing a flower print blouse and a light gray skirt that reached to above her knees. She stood there for a moment, staring at Justin.

Justin raised his glass to the young lady. “I take it you’re the one who called?”

“I take it you’re the garbage defending that killer, the one who killed Raymond?”

“Yeah, and it’s a pleasure to meet you too,” Justin answered. “How about you telling me your name and why you wanted to meet.”

The young woman pulled out a chair and sat across the table from Justin. “I heard from one of my friends that you are looking into Raymond’s past. Trying to find someone else who would want to kill him. Well, I’m here to tell you two things. One, I wanted him dead. Two, I didn’t kill him.”

“Well, that certainly saves me a lot of time. But I still need more information.”

“I can imagine.”

Justin pulled out a pocket notebook. “How about telling me your name and why you wanted Raymond dead?”

The young lady leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms. “My name is Charlisa Nickels. I’m, I mean I was Raymond’s girlfriend. We had been dating for more than a year. Then he suddenly breaks up with me, right after he gets an internship with this really prestigious law firm. I mean we’ve been together for all this time. I practically supported him, and he dumps me.”

“Let’s start with who you are?”

“I just told you,” Charlisa stated. “I was Raymond’s girlfriend.”

“What I need is more than that. Are you a student? Did you two live together? Why did you want to kill Raymond?”

“Yes, Raymond and I lived together. We even talked about getting married. Then he gets this job, this internship, and he suddenly moves out and ghosts me. He doesn’t return my calls, my texts, emails, nothing. I finally chase him down at the law firm where he is working. I find him with this woman. She was old enough to be his mother. It’s obvious he’s dumped me for this woman. He’s such a gold digger. You would think with his old man being a state senator, that would be enough, but no. I mean I thought we had something, but he dumped me for this rich bitch. And I’m left with nothing but the bills for the apartment, and get this, seven packages of beef jerky. I don’t even like beef jerky. What am I going to do with seven packages of beef jerky?”

Justin snickered. “Can I ask what do you do? Are you a student? Do you have a job?”

“Yes, I’m a student,” Charlisa answered. “I’m working on my masters in business administration. I met Raymond when we were both undergraduates here. We dated off and on for a while, then when we got into grad school, something clicked. Like I said, we were living together, and I thought everything was great. We spent holidays with each other’s family, had sex several times a week, socialized with friends. We even talked about getting married.”

“You told me that. But I find it hard to believe you wanted to kill Raymond because he broke up with you.”

Charlisa stared at Justin. “You asked if I had a job. I’m currently working part-time at a formal wear store. Before that, I was working part-time at an investment firm, kind of learning the ropes of big business. Then Raymond broke it off with me. A week later, I’m let go. I find out later that rich bitch Raymond is seeing was a major client of the firm.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t want to kill the woman.”

“Who says I didn’t?”

“Well, not that I don’t appreciate the truth, but why are you telling me all this?”

Charlisa leaned forward and placed her elbows on the table. “Because it is just a matter of time before you find out about me and Raymond. I want you to know that as much as I wanted Raymond and that shank he was screwing around with dead, I didn’t do it.”

“And why should I believe you?”

“Because I have an alibi, I was working the night Raymond was killed. And, I can’t swim.”

Chapter Seven

The law offices of Welsh & Hansen reminded Wendy Codwell of law offices on television programs. There was a pretty receptionist with long blond hair. She was wearing a business suit that highlighted her figure. She was polite and friendly, but well aware her job was being the person who kept those the lawyers didn’t want to talk to out of the office. The burnt orange carpet went perfectly with the wood grain furnishings in the office. Behind the lovely receptionist was a wall with the name of Welsh & Hansen displayed in large script letters. Wendy was certain behind that wall was a labyrinth of offices, cubicles, conference rooms, and waiting areas.

“Good morning,” the receptionist said as Wendy walked in. “How can I help you?”

Wendy returned the greeting. “I’m Wendy Codwell from the Public Defenders’ Office. I’m hoping I can see Ms. Nicole Welsh.”

The receptionist smiled, “May I ask what this is in reference to?”

“Of course. I’m one of the attorneys working on the Raymond Carlsen homicide.”

“That was such a tragedy. Raymond was a wonderful boy. Everyone here liked him.”

“I’m sure they did,” Wendy responded. “Still, I need to talk to Ms. Welsh and Raymond’s coworkers. I know it’s unpleasant, but I do need to talk to them.”

“I understand,” the receptionist stated as she lifted up the phone and pressed some numbers. She let the person at the other end know Wendy was in the reception area. When the receptionist finished, she showed Wendy where to wait.

Wendy didn’t have to wait long for an irate Nicole Welsh to come out. “What are you doing here?” Nicole demanded.

Wendy stood up. “I’m working Mike Richard’s defense team. I just need to get some background information about Raymond Carlsen and what he did here.”

“He was an intern here. He was a good kid and did good work. That was until that animal killed him for no reason.”

Wendy sighed. “I can see this isn’t going to be easy. Look, I think it would be better to talk privately in your office than here in the reception area. You wouldn’t want any of your clients to get the wrong impression.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“No, I’m stating a fact,” Wendy replied. “I don’t want to make a scene in your front office.”

“You can make a scene if you want, but no one here is going to help you. In fact, if you approach anyone from this office, I will sue you and the your entire office for harassment.”

Wendy took a small step forward and faced Nicole. “It’s not harassment; and I would love to see you bring us into court. What you’re doing is called obstruction of justice. The defense team has an obligation to investigate all the facts, including the victim and his life, to see if there are any circumstances relating to the crime.”

“Ms. Welsh,” the receptionist interrupted.

“What!” yelled Nicole.

The receptionist gave a slight cough. “ Your next appointment is due in fifteen minutes.”

Nicole took several deep breaths to regain her composure. “All right. Maybe we should continue this discussion in my office.”

Wendy nodded in agreement. Nicole opened a door leading to the offices behind the reception area. Wendy also noticed Nicole scowled at the receptionist.

Nicole led Wendy though the cubicles to her private office, which had the required huge desk, two chairs in front of it, a couch and two large windows looking out onto the street below  Nicole motioned for Wendy to take a seat in front of the desk.

“What do you want to know about Raymond?” Nicole demanded.

“What kind of employee was he? What did he do here? Was he working on anything that would take him out to the lake?”

“He was a good kid,” Nicole answered. “But I told you that already. He was an intern here. He did mostly errands like making copies, correlate documents, check on facts, run personal errands for employees who didn’t have the time to do them.”

“What was he working on when he was killed? Did it have anything to do with something happening at the lake?”



“No, he was not working on anything that could have gotten him killed. As for the lake, this firm deals mostly with corporate law, copyrights, patents, that kind of stuff. We wouldn’t have any business deals taking place out at the lake.”

“What exactly was he working on before his death?”

“He was an intern,” Nicole forcefully stated. “He wasn’t working on any cases. He made copies, correlated material, ran errands. If there was anything related to a case this office is working on, I doubt they would go after an intern and not a lawyer.”

“Did Raymond have any issues, conflicts, problems with anyone here?”

“Interns have trouble fitting in with everyone. It’s new to them and they have to learn the ropes while everything is going on. It can be exciting. It can also be overwhelming. As far as I could tell, Raymond wasn’t having any difficulties. Everyone liked him.”

“Do you know why Raymond was out at the lake the day he was killed?”

“Nope, absolutely not.”

“When was the last time you saw Raymond before his death?”

“The day before. He was making copies of something when I left the office for the day.”

“Anything else you could tell me about Raymond? Maybe a reason someone would want him killed?”

“None. That animal killed Raymond for no reason. Now, get out of my office before I do something you’ll regret.”

Wendy stood up, smoothed out her skirt, and looked at Nicole. “You know, I deal with murders, child molesters, rapists, scum of the earth that would slit your throat for a cold beer. So if you are trying to intimidate me, bitch, you are going to have do a lot better.” Wendy turned and left Nicole’s office.

  • * * * * *

Wendy managed to work her way pass the glares of the employees at Welsh & Hansen.

“How did it go?” the attractive receptionist asked as Wendy exited the back offices.

“I’ve had better interviews at autopsies.”

The receptionist giggled. “Figured as much.”

Wendy leaned against the counter in front of the receptionist. “What can you tell me about Raymond?”

“Nothing much,” she replied. “He was an intern, so I had very little contact with him. It’s not like anyone was calling him.”

Wendy continued to watch the receptionist as she checked information on her computer. Wendy could tell this woman had brains as well as good looks. “Excuse me sweetheart, what’s your name?”


“Well Rachel. What can you tell me about Raymond? Was he working on anything interesting? Dangerous? Maybe up at the lake?”

“Not that I know of.”

“How often did Raymond come into the office?”

“Every day. As an intern, he was basically a slave. He did all the grunt work and ran personal errands for all of the associates.”

“How often did Ms. Welsh work with the interns?”

“Practically every day,” Rachel answered.

“Something tells me that needs more explanation.”

Rachel smiled. “I’ve worked here for two years. I’ve noticed that all of the interns have been good-looking, young men. I heard from the receptionist before me, it’s been that way for years. And, it seems Ms. Welsh always has a lot of errands for the interns, many of which require them to visit her at her home after hours.”

“Know of any other interns who can confirm this?”

“There’s Dale Knief. He’s the other intern currently. He gets in around one o’clock. But you can find him at the deli down the street where he usually has lunch before coming in. But don’t tell any one I told you.”

“Wouldn’t happen to have his phone number?”

Rachel handed Wendy a piece of  paper.

Wendy took out one of her business cards. “If you get any kind of flack about talking to me, call me. And if you ever want to work for a different lawyer, definitely, call me.”

  • * * * * *

Wendy stood outside the deli looking in. Left of the entrance was a long glass counter displaying a large selection on bagels and pastries. In the back was a cooler with six glass doors. the far left held yogurt, cheese, and ready-made sandwiches from the kitchen behind the cooler. the rest of the cooler held soft drinks. There were no booths but also most twenty tables with seating for four in the large dining area. Wendy pulled out her cell phone and punched in the numbers on the piece of paper the receptionist had given her. A slightly portly man in his early twenties picked up his cell phone. Wendy closed hers and entered the deli.

Wendy walked up to the young man who was staring at his cell and chewing on half a sandwich. He was dressed in dark slack and a light-blue dress shirt. His striped tie was laying on top of a small knapsack. The young man looked up at the middle-aged woman dressed in a business suit.

“Can I help you?” the young man asked.

“Dale Knief. Nice to meet you.”

The young man put down his cell phone. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”

Wendy sad down across the young man. “You’re Dale Knief. You’re an intern at Welsh & Hansen. You’re also a friend of Raymond Carlsen.”

“Who are you?” Dale asked.

Wendy pulled out one of her business cards and handed it to Dale. “I’m Wendy Codwell. I’m with the Public Defender’s Office.”

“And you’re looking into the Raymond’s murder.”

“My goodness, you’re a bright boy.”

Dale leaned back and crossed his arms. “What do you want?”

“Peace on Earth, a cure for cancer, oh, and a brand new Mercedes, but not black; I would prefer a brighter color, maybe red. . .”

“I don’t sell cars; so what do you want?”

Wendy put her elbows on the table. “What can you tell me about Raymond Carlsen?”

Dale uncrossed his arms and took a sip of his soft drink. He set it down and stared at Wendy. “What’s with the red hair?”

“It’s a fashion statement. Now, back to Raymond. What can you tell me about him?”

“He was a jerk.”


“He thought he was hot stuff because his father was a state senator. He had an in with Ms. Welsh, the senior partner at the law firm. It was a cinch he would get a job offer after graduating, and he made sure we all knew it.”

“So, what kind of work did Raymond do at the firm?”

“Raymond and I are interns. We mostly run errands, make copies, corelate material, that kind of stuff. Every once in a while, we get to help with researching case law for something one of the associates is working on.”

“If Raymond thought he was such hot stuff, maybe he was working on something or helping with a case. Was he working on anything special?”

“If you mean running errands for Ms. Welsh and delivering her dry cleaning after hours, yeah, he was doing something special, if you know what I mean.”

“I mean was he working on anything that might have put in danger? Was he working on anything that would cause someone to think Raymond might be a threat to him or her?”

“No. I mean he managed to piss off people at work.”

“What about the other partner, Hansen?”

“There is no other partner. Hansen is Ms. Welsh’s husband. I guess he put up some of the money to get the firm started, but he’s no lawyer. He deals in real estate. But he does show up at the office quite often, usually to hit on some of the good-looking young lawyers working there. I’ve heard that most of them work there a few years, get some experience, then look for a job with another law firm.”

“The guy sounds like a pig. Back to Raymond. You said he upset people at work. Did he have any enemies there?”

“Well no one really liked him, except for Ms. Welsh. But what does this have to do with Raymond’s death? That creep up at the lake killed him.”

“How about you?”

“Let’s just say Raymond and I didn’t exchange Christmas cards.”

“Where were you the night Raymond was killed?”

“I’m a law student. I was home studying like most law students. I maybe an intern, but I still have to take classes and pass tests.”

“One last question,” Wendy stated. “How does Raymond’s death affect you?”

“Not sorry he’s gone, especially since I have a good shot at getting a position at the firm when I graduate now that Raymond’s out of the picture.”

“So, you benefit from Raymond’s death.”

Wendy could see Dale was uneasy about that statement.

  • * * * * *

The Hansen Realty office building was specifically designed to look like a modern home. It had its main office in what would be the living room of most houses. The three back bedrooms served as private offices. The kitchen was the employee break room and the dining room was the conference room. The flooring was a light-colored wood title, selected for high pedestrian traffic. Wendy stepped into the air-conditioned office. She was greeted by a middle-age woman with short brown hair. She was wearing jeans and a short-sleeved pink blouse with two red roses embroidered over the left breast pocket. The name plate on her desk identified her as Marion.

Marion smiled at Wendy. “Good morning. How can I help you?”

“Morning. Would it be possible to talk to Bradner Hansen?”

“Of course. I’ll go and get him. In the meantime, you can have a seat and feel free to browse our listing on the computer.” Marion left her desk and went to one of the back offices. She returned with a man dresses in chinos, an Oxford shirt, and a blue blazer with a Hansen Realty patch on the pocket. Even though the man combed his hair back, Wendy could tell he was experiencing male-pattern baldness. The man’s belt and blazer failed to hide his expanding waistline.

The man stuck out his hand. “I’m Bradner Hansen. No matter what kind of home you’re looking for, I guarantee we have it, and in all price ranges. Now, what can I do for you?”

Wendy extended a business card to Bradner. “I’m Wendy Codwell from the Public Defenders’ Office. I’m hoping you have a few minutes to talk.”

Bradner dropped his hand, refusing to accept Wendy’s card. “My wife told me about you. She said you were defending that pig who killed Raymond.”

Wendy smiled. “Are you sure it was Mike Richards who killed Raymond? There might be a possibility someone else wanted him dead.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, what can you tell me about Raymond Carlsen? How well did you know him?”

“He worked at my wife’s law office. I met him a couple of times when he had to drop something off at the office.”

“Did you know what Raymond was working on at your wife’s office?”

“Now how would I know? What goes on at the office is confidential. No one is going to tell me what they are working on.”

“Do you know if Raymond had any enemies or problems at work?”

“Again, how would I know what happens at my wife’s office?”

“What can you tell me?”


“Well, since you’re being so helpful, maybe you could tell when was the last time you saw Raymond?”

“I don’t remember.”

Wendy stared at Bradner for a few seconds. “Mr. Hansen, thank you for your time. I’m afraid I won’t be needing your help in finding a new home; but I can guarantee we will speak again.” Wendy turned and left.

  • * * * * *

Chapter Eight

Wendy was eating a muffin when Justin walked into the office. She pointed to a pot of freshly brewed coffee and an opened package of muffins next to the coffee. Justin noticed this was Wendy’s second muffin from the package.

“Good morning,” Wendy said while munching on her muffin. “How did go at the university yesterday?”

“Glad I’m no longer a student,” Justin answered. “How about you? How did it go with your interviews?”

“Well. Let’s see. I interviewed Nicole Welsh at her law firm; talked to Dale Knief, an intern working at the firm; and ended the day meeting with Bradner Hansen, who is not your most friendly real estate agent. Can’t say I got a lot warm fuzzies from anyone.”

“Same here,” Justin replied. “It seems everyone I talk to wants to see Mike locked up or shot. The only person who’s been helpful has been Kimberly.”

“Kimberly? You mean Detective Simmons? Well, that’s it. Let’s talk about your love life. It’s got to be better than this case.”

“What love life? We went out to dinner once. You’re reading too much into her being helpful. Let’s focus on what we know about Raymond Carlsen and the people we interviewed.”

Wendy finished her muffin. “Sure, why not? I can always use indigestion with my morning coffee. You first.”

“I met with one of Raymond’s law professors, Adam Lingenfleter. Turns out he and Raymond’s father, Phillip Carlsen, crossed paths in court when they were practicing law.”

“That’s a mild way to put it,” Wendy said with a slight giggle. “Those two started out at the same law firm, competing for cases. They were both personal injury lawyers, so every case they won, got them up the corporate ladder. Carlsen was known to steal several of Lingenfleter’s clients, especially the ones that had easy cases. Forced Lingenfleter to leave the firm and start out on his own. He had a hard time getting cases until he wangled himself a position at the law school. At first, it helped him get new clients; but soon the demands of teaching forced him to quit practicing law.”

“Interesting. How does he manage to afford his home? I understand it’s a pretty expensive neighborhood.”

“He helped our favorite lawyer, Nicole, win a big case. He bought the house with the settlement money he earned. But I’ve heard he’s had trouble with paying his property taxes; at least that’s what my contact in the tax office told me.”

Justin poured himself a cup of coffee. “That raises some interesting questions for the next time I get to talk to him.”

“Did you get to talk to anyone else?”

“Yes,” Justin answered, taking a sip of coffee. “I met with Raymond’s girlfriend.”

“Oh, I really do want to hear about our victim’s love life. Was it sorted? Obscene? Kinky?”

“You’re making me wonder about your love life?”

“I’m happily married, and it’s boring. Now, tell me about Raymond’s.”

“His girlfriend is named Charlisa Nickels. They were living together until Raymond got the internship at Nicole Welsh’s law firm. He moved out and broke off the relationship. She says she was working at an accounting firm. She thinks Nicole Welsh, who is a client of the firm, had something to do with her getting fired a week after Raymond got his internship.”

“Anything else?”

Justin sat down behind his desk. “Yes, she admits she wanted to kill Raymond, but says she has an alibi. She was working part-time at a formal wear store. Oh, and she can’t swim.”

“She doesn’t need to know how to swim to dump a body from a boat,” Wendy pointed out.

“That’s true. So, what did you turn up?”

Wendy sighed heavily. “My first stop was to Welsh and Hansen Law Offices. Ms. Welsh told me nothing other than to get out of her office. But the receptionist, whose name is Rachel, by the way. If you get a call from her, treat her nice, and be sure to let me know. Anyway, she told me that Ms. Welsh tends to hire young male interns and has a lot of personal errands for them to run, many of which require them to make trips to her home after hours. And it’s common knowledge that her husband, Bradner, is very familiar with this arrangement. In fact, it was hinted that he himself sometimes dates young female lawyers working at the firm.”

“Infidelity is hardly new, but it does supply a motive; if we can prove Raymond was sleeping with Nicole and that her husband was upset about it. Did you talk to anyone else?”

“Talked to Dale Knief,” Wendy answered. “He’s an intern at the same firm that the victim was. He said our victim, Raymond Carlsen was a shoe-in for a position when he graduated. Now that he’s dead, Dale had a chance at getting the position. I got the impression there wasn’t much love lost between the two of them.”

“So he could have had a reason for killing Raymond.”

Wendy scoffed. “Pretty weak motives. Jealous lovers, possible job, cheating spouses, a bad job experience.”

“Murders have happened for less. They’re more likely motives than a vet carrying a grudge for days and then attacking some college kid.”

“True. But Carlsen was beaten to death. It’s possible his death wasn’t premeditated,; it could have been something done in a moment of rage.”

Justin took a sip of his coffee before answering. “That doesn’t help Mike. He’s know to lose his temper, and he is quite capable of beating someone to death. But the real issue for me is what was Raymond doing out there at the lake?”

Wendy was silent for a moment as she reflected on Justin’s comment. “Good point. It would take a lot of planning to get Carlsen out to the lake to kill him. So you think the key to our case is finding out why he was out at lake. How are we going to do that?”

Justin shrugged his shoulders, signaling he didn’t know. He cleared some papers on his desk to find a spot to place his coffee cup. He turned on his computer and leaned back in his chair. Wendy watched, waiting for an answer.

There came a knock on the door. A young woman entered. “Excuse me. Are you Mr. Ainsley?”

Wendy looked over the young woman with envy. She was an attractive woman wearing jeans and a pale blue sweater, both which accented her slim figure. She had short brown hair just pass her ears, but her hair was pulled back of her right ear reveling two small pierced diamond earrings. Her pink lipstick went perfectly with her tanned skin tone. While the woman was tall, she wasn’t short. Wendy was sure Justin was hoping she wasn’t a client and that he could ask her out; not that Wendy blamed him.

“Yes, I’m Justin Ainsley. What can I do for you?”

“I need your help,” the young woman replied.

Justin leaned forward and pulled a notepad out. “Okay. What kind of trouble are you in?”

The young lady closed the door and approached Justin. “I’m not in trouble. It’s my boyfriend. He’s missing. And I think the man you are defending killed him.”

* * * * *

Chapter Nine

Wendy motioned for the young lady to take a seat. “Sweetie. Could you please explain? Why do you think your boyfriend’s disappearance has anything to do with our client; and why do you think Mike Richards killed him?”

 “I have a better idea,” Justin said before the woman could answer. “Let’s start with you name and the name of your boyfriend.”

“My name is Denise Stebbins. My boyfriend’s name is Paul Campbell.”

“What makes you think Mike Richards had anything to do with your boyfriend’s disappearance?”

“Didn’t I just ask that,” Wendy stated with slight frustration.

“What do you know about Mike?” Denise asked.

Justin waved his hand. “He’s a combat vet, served in Afghanistan, former Marine.”

“He also lives out there at the lake. And he is the most environmentally conscientious person out there. He doesn’t litter, or harm animals, of destroy any of the trees. Except for his campsite, there is no sign of him out there.”

“Okay. He’s environmentally friendly. What’s the connection between that and your boyfriend’s disappearance?”

Denise raised her head slightly. “Paul was majoring in environmental science. He noticed a lot of dead fish and other wildlife out there. He’s run into Mike several times. Now, Mike and Paul weren’t friends, in fact Mike seems to hate everybody. But Paul did notice that Mike seemed to care about the lake and the woods around it.”

“So far, it seems there isn’t conflict,” Justin noted. “Why do you think Mike would harm your boyfriend?”

“Paul,” Denise responded loudly. “His name is Paul.”

“Of course, Paul.”

“Paul knew that with Mike living out there, he would notice things most people would miss. Think about it. Most people go out there for a few hours maybe once or twice a month. But Paul would go out there four or five times a week. Except for Mike, the people who worked at the marina or lived there, no one was there that often.”

Wendy held up her hand to interrupt Denise. “Honey, just because Mike lived out there, doesn’t mean he had anything to do with your boyfriend.”

“Let me finish,” Denise responded with hostility. The same night the boy was killed out by the lake, was the last time I saw Paul. He said he was going out to see Mike, to find out what he knew about the pollution of the lake.”

Justin held up his hand. “So far, there is no conflict. It seems your boyfriend, Paul, and Mike are on the same page; they both care about the environment and the lake. There’s no reason for Mike to hurt Paul.”

Denise crossed her arms. “You really don’t know Mike Richards very well, do you? He’s not very friendly. While he and Paul had the same ideas, Mike can be very hostile to anyone who disturbs him. He’s often yelled and threatened Paul when Paul was out there.”

“Has Mike ever harmed your boyfriend?” Justin asked. “And when you say threatened, how did Mike threatened your boyfriend?”

“Well, I don’t think Mike ever actually hit Paul or physically accosted him. But I do know Mike told Paul to stay away; and if he didn’t, he could get hurt.”

“How did Mike threaten to hurt your boyfriend?”

“Paul said Mike told him it was dangerous for him to be poking around the lake. Now that is a threat.”

“Not necessarily,” Justin responded. “It could be a warning of some danger out there that Paul was unaware of.

Wendy got up and pulled a chair up next to Denise. “Look sweetie. I understand you are worried about your boyfriend. And I can understand why you think maybe Mike had something to do with his disappearance. But truthfully, just because Mike lives out at the lake doesn’t mean he hurt your boyfriend. Have you talked to the police about this? If you want, I could call them and have them come over and take a report.”

“I’ve already done that,” Denise replied in a huff. “I went down to the police station and talked to them. They took a report,; but they haven’t done anything. I’m telling you Paul is in danger and Mike is responsible. Now what are you going to do about it?”

Justin got up and held his hand out to Denise. She took it and Justin led her to table in the conference room. He then gave her a tablet of paper and a couple of pens. “Do me a favor. Write down everything you know about your boyfriend’s disappearance. Be sure to include any names of people who would know anything and times and dates of any events or meetings. Once you have completed your statement, I’ll look into it.”

“And exactly how are you going to look into it?”

“I’ll talk to the people you mentioned in your statement. I’ll talk to the police and see what they are doing. I’ll even talk to Mike Richards about it. I can’t promise I will find your boyfriend; but I do promise to do everything I can to locate him. Won’t lie to you. There isn’t much more that I can do other than talk to people, but I will do everything I can.”

Denise stared at Justin. “Well, at least it’s more than the police are doing.” She began to write.

  • * * * * *

It took Denise less than an hour to complete her statement. Twenty minutes after that, Justin walked into the police station and asked for Detective Simmons. The desk sergeant called to the detective division before informing Justin Detective Simmons was not working today. He also informed Justin that Detective Steve Tindall, Simmons’ partner was out at the lake; and he requested Justin to join him.

Justin questioned the request for him to come to the lake during the entire drive up there. He mentally went over possibilities of discovering new evidence that would exonerate his client. Then he thought about evidence that could convict Mike. By the time Justin got to the lake as nervous as a cat in a dog pound. Justin quickly brushed pass the patrol officers controlling the bystanders watching Detective Tindall and several divers standing on the pier. On the lake, there were only two boats, each with two police officers and a dog.

“What’s up?” Justin asked as he approach Detective Steve Tindall.

“We’re doing a cadaver search,” Steve answered.

“And may I ask what this has to do with me?”

“Maybe nothing,” Steve replied.

Justin stood next to Steve for a minutes, observing the boats on the water. “Well I guess it’s a good thing I came out here anyway. I need to talk to about something.”

“Sure. Go ahead.”

“This morning, a young lady came to my office. Her name is Denise Stebbins. She told me her boyfriend, a young man named Paul Campbell, was last seen out here about a week ago. He’s disappeared and she suspects foul play.”

“Know all about it.”

Justin turned to stare at Steve. “You know about it?”

“Yep,” Steve acknowledged. “She reported him missing a couple of days ago. I had a couple of patrol officers come out here and search the area, but they found nothing except for a backpack. It had some kind of scientific equipment in it, so I came out here.”

“So you are working on the case?”


“Maybe,” Justin shouted. “How about doing something other than watching some boaters out there with their dogs?”

Steve faced Justin. “I am doing something. Because of the backpack, I called in a favor with a friend of mine with the state police. Those dogs you see out there are cadaver dogs, specially trained to smell bodies in water. I don’t know the specifics, but I do know if there is body out there in that lake, those dogs will find it. Once they alert on a spot, these divers will go out there and see if they can find a body. I’m just hoping it isn’t that poor girl’s boyfriend. By the way, you should hope so too. Because if it is, we just may have a second murder victim; and may I remind you right now the primary suspect of any foul play out here is your client.”

Justin was about to reply when one of the dogs started barking.

“Looks like he found something,” one of the divers said as he and the others climbed into a boat.

They made their way to where the dog had alerted. They tied their boat to one with the dog and two officers. The four divers sent over the side into the water. Everyone stared and quietly waited. Justin knew the divers had a limited amount of air. They could remain submerged for less than an hour. The minutes crawled by. Still the divers were submerged. After half an hour, with the crowd still quiet except for a few mutterings, the divers surfaced, one of them hold an orange floatation device.

The divers climbed back into the boat. One of them stood up and shout. “We found a body.”

* * * * *

Chapter Ten

There are only two changes in the daily routine of a jail. One is the food, lunch and dinner menus change according to the day of the week. The second is the opportunity to meet with a religious leader on Sunday. So when Mike was told his lawyer was here to see him, he saw it a change from boredom, and nothing else.

Justin watched as Mike was brought into the room. It was designed to be barren, with nothing more than a steel table bolted to the floor, and surrounded by four steel stools, also attached to the floor. Justin had brought only a yellow, legal-sized tablet and two pens with him. He knew the less he took into the facility, the easier it was to gain access to his client.

The guard took off the shackles restraining Mike. He took the stool on the opposite side of the table from Justin. “What brings you here?” Mike demanded with irritation.

“I was in a good mood, but I needed someone to ruin it; so naturally, I thought of you.”

“Ha, ha. You should be on Saturday Night Live.”

“Nah, can’t stand the fame.”

Mike leaned forward. “So what really did bring you down here?”

“The police found another body out at the lake yesterday. They think you might have had something to do with it.”

“Wasn’t me.”

“How do you know?” Justin asked. “I haven’t told you who it is or where they found the body.”

“Because I haven’t hurt anyone. I don’t know anything about any dead body. It wasn’t me. Look somewhere else.”

Justin nodded acknowledgement. “Do you know a college kid named Paul Campbell?”


“You sure? He’s, he was studying environmental science. He spent a lot of time out there. Someone said you knew him.”

“Was he a tall, slender dude, always carrying a blue backpack?”

“I don’t know. The body they found yesterday had been in the water for several days. I won’t know the victim’s identity until after the autopsy. As for a blue backpack, I know the police found a backpack, but they haven’t told me what color it was. Now back to my original question; do you know Paul Campbell?”

Mike glared at Justin for a few seconds before answering. “I know of some college kid that came out to the lake a bunch of times. I know he was taking water samples. He used to ask me all sorts of questions, mostly about what I thought was killing the fish out there. I can tell you he was a tall, thin guy, and he always carried a blue backpack. I don’t know his name. I really didn’t talk to him much.”

“Someone stated you threatened him.”

“He’s lying. I told that kid to go away. I told him it wasn’t healthy for him to search for answers. It was a warning, not a threat.”

“What were you warning him about?”

“Something that has nothing to do with me being in jail.”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

“Because when we finish talking, you get to leave and I’m still here.”

“When was the last time you saw Paul Campbell?”

“If you mean the skinny kid from college, I don’t know. I can’t remember.”

“What about the night you were arrested?”

“No, I didn’t see him that night or that day. It must have been at least a couple of days earlier when I saw him last.”

“Was that when you warned him?”

“Probably. I honestly don’t remember.”

Justin tapped the tablet of paper in front of him with one of the pens. “Let’s talk about why you are out there at the lake. You have a home and a wife who loves you. I understand she brings you clean clothes and money sometimes. So why are you out there and not at home?”

“You serve?’

Justin nodded yes. “I pulled two tours in Iraq with the Judge Advocate’s Office.”

“Still, you never saw combat, did you?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You were lucky. Don’t get me wrong. We appreciated those who gave us support. And I know you guys didn’t always have it easy. I’m sure there were times when things got bad.”

“But,” Justin added.

“A lot of us have real problems when we get back. It’s amazing how little things you never noticed before all of sudden start to startle and annoy you. You’ve met my wife, Kristen, haven’t you?”

“Yes, I met her the day you were in court.”

“She’s not a large woman; in fact, she’s kind of small. You wouldn’t think she would make so much noise. I can hear her footsteps. All she is doing is walking; but the sound of her footsteps bother me. At night, if she moves in bed, it startles me and wakes my up. We’ll be watching TV and I get startled when her cell phone goes off. I have to go outside when she’s washing the dishes because the noise gets to me. Even our cat makes too much noise when he is walking around. Every little sounds makes me jump. As for getting to sleep, forget it. I spend most nights in front of the TV, hoping to fall asleep. When I do, it’s for a couple of hours, then I wake up. I’m exhausted, but I can’t seem to get to sleep.”

“And I’m angry all the time. People do stupid things, nothing important. They throw trash on the ground, they stand in the doorway, they make too much noise with their cars, petty things; but they all make me mad and I end up yelling at complete strangers for no real reason. When I’m out at the lake, the noises I hear from the forest don’t seem to upset me. If I do get angry, I can always pound sticks against a tree or throw rocks at a cliff. I don’t hurt others. That’s why I’m out there. I don’t want to hurt anyone ever again, for any reason, whether it’s justified or not; I don’t want to hurt people.”

Justin took a deep breath before answering. “I can understand where you are coming from. Still, the police have several reports of you being involved in altercations with strangers at local bars.”

“I said I didn’t want to hurt people, that’s why I’m out at the lake. There’s no one to hurt. I don’t have worry about losing my temper because it’s just me out there.”

“Like I said, I understand,” Justin replied. “But we still have two dead college students, and it looks like they were both out there at the lake the night you were arrested.”

  • * * * * *

“He killed him. Wild Mike killed Paul. That murderer you are defending killed him.”

Justin stood in the doorway of his office staring at Denise Stebbins, who was screaming at him between sobbing over the loss of her boyfriend. Wendy was standing next to the crying girl, handing her tissues and trying to calm her down.

“They wouldn’t even let me see him,” Denise sobbed.

“It’s a good thing too,” Justin replied. “The body the police recovered yesterday had been in the water for several days. It’s a ghastly mess. It’s much better for you to remember your boyfriend as you knew him. Besides, they haven’t identified the body yet. It could be someone else.”

“Yes they have,” Wendy said, handing Denise another tissue. “They got the boy’s dental records, and they match. They are following up with DNA testing, but the police are fairly sure the victim was Paul Campbell, this young lady’s boyfriend.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Denise yelled. “That man killed Paul.”

Justin went to his desk and sat down. He faced Denise. “I went to talk to Mike this morning. He tells me he doesn’t know your boyfriend and he didn’t see him the night Raymond Carlsen was killed.”

“Of course he killed Paul,” Denise exclaimed. “Who else would have? No one had anything against Paul. The only person who could have done is that murderer. He’s nuts. He’s creepy, He’s crazy. He belongs in jail.”

Justin took a deep breath. “What makes you think Mike is mentally ill?”

“He’s always out there with those damn binoculars; that’s why,” Denise answered. “Only a pervert would run around in the woods spying on everyone out there. I’ve seen him myself; standing on the shoreline staring out at everyone through those binoculars.”

Justin made a note on a pad of paper. “I understand you’re upset; and you have every right to be. And I can assure you that the police will do everything they can to find the person who killed your boyfriend.”

Denise turned and stormed over to the door. “It’s Wild Mike. The police don’t need to look. It’s animal they have in their jail.” Denise slammed the door on her way out.

Wendy returned to her desk, sat down, and faced Justin. “Well, you see the drama I’ve been dealing with this morning. What about you?”

“Like I said, I visited Mike this morning. He said he had seen the kid around and even warned him. There seems to be a lot dead fish out there, and this kid was trying to find out why. But Mike said he didn’t see the kid the day Raymond was killed and he had nothing to do with the kid’s death.”

“I gathered from the hysterical woman who just left that the police found another body yesterday. Do they know when the victim died, and how?”

“Don’t have the autopsy report yet,” Justin answered. “Why?”

Wendy picked up her coffee cup. “Then it quite possible the second victim was killed the day before or several days before Raymond Carlsen. And it means our client may be looking at a second murder charge.”

  • * * * * *

Chapter Twelve

The young men seemed more interested in impressing the young women with their athletic stunts than the music blaring from a portable tape player on the dock of the lake marina. They were dressed in swim suits or cutoff jeans; none of the boys were wearing shirts, probably to show off their muscles and lean physiques. The young ladies seemed just as interested is displaying their bodies. However, the person who caught Justin’s attention was the older man wearing shorts and a sleeveless tee shirt. Justin recognized him as Adam Lingenfleter.

“How is everyone doing today?” Justin said as he approached the group.

“We’re fine,” one of the young ladies with long black hair answered. She stood up and faced Justin before crossing her arms against her chest. “What can we do for you?”

Justin motioned for someone to turn down the music. “Nothing really. Just saw you all out here and thought I would ask what’s happening.”

One of the muscular young men turned down the tape player. “Don’t I know you?” he said with some a degree of suspicion in his voice. “I’ve seen you somewhere.”

“He’s the lawyer defending Wild Mike,” Adam answered. His voice didn’t hide the contempt he had for Justin. “He’s out here fishing for some kind of excuse to get his client released.”

“Yeah, that’s where I saw you,” the young man said. “You were the guy who talked to us in the library at campus. You were asking about Wild Mike then?”

“That’s right,” Justin replied. “But today I was just curious what you were all doing out here at the lake.”

“Why?” the muscular individual demanded. “We aren’t doing anything wrong.”

“Oh knock it off, Josh,” a blond wearing a purple two piece swim suit to show off her slender body. “There’s no reason to be hostile.”

The young woman walked up to Justin and stuck out her hand. “I’m sure you don’t remember us, so let me introduce you to everyone.”

Justin shook the woman’s hand. She put her arm around Justin’s and led him forward. “I’m Jessica Bethens, one of the law students you talked to in the library. The tall one with black hair is Deborah; you also met her at the library. Then there’s Mary, the other female in our study group. The guy with the muscles is Josh, and he was with us when we talked to you at the library. The other three guys are Scott, Bill, and Phillip. And I get the impression you know our law professor, Adam Lingenfleter.”

“Are you all law students?” Justin asked.

“No,” Deborah answered. “Just the ones you met at the library. The rest have different majors. But it turns out we are all in the same business law class.”

Justin grinned and pointed to Adam. “And you are their teacher.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Justin could hear the hostility in Adam’s voice.

“Nothing. Like I said, I was curious as to what was going on. Just making conversation, trying to be friendly.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with that,” Jessica answered.

The tall girl with the black hair grabbed an Army tee shirt and put it on. “Jessica’s right. Sorry about being defensive; but we’re a bit shook up about the whole thing. First, Wild Mike kills Raymond, then he kills another student.”

“That’s right,” shouted Adam. “Your client murdered two students.”

“Yeah, I hear the police suspect him in a second homicide that took place out here,” Justin said. “But seriously, I didn’t come over to talk about Mike Richards. I heard the music, saw you all out here, and thought I would simply say hello.”

“Hello,” Adam responded, his voice dripping with contempt.

Justin walked to the edge of the dock. “So you are all out here swimming and just hanging out.”

“Not quite,” responded Deborah as she pulled her long black hair from the back of the Army tee shirt. “We’re hanging out, but no swimming. Thom, the marina owner, doesn’t want us to swim near the dock because of the construction going on. He’s afraid we might get hurt. As for swimming elsewhere, forget it. With all the dead fish that have been showing up lately, most of us are a bit concerned about what’s in the water here. It’s probably contaminated with some kind of toxin or something.”

“What?” Justin exclaimed. “No one has been out here to test the water or try to find out what’s causing the fish to die?”

“There was one guy,” one of the young ladies stated. “Hi, I’m Karen. The guy who was checking out the lake was the other guy Wild Mike killed.”

“You mean Paul Campbell?” Justin asked.

“That’s right,” Karen confirmed. “He was kind of a science geek. He was doing a project for the university, trying to find out if there was anything wrong with the water. I don’t know if he found anything or not because he got killed.”

A young man with a scruffy beard approach Justin. “That’s right. He found out that Wild Mike was doing something to the water, polluting it, causing all the fish to die. So he killed him. That kid didn’t stand a chance. First he killed that kid, then he killed Carlsen. He’s a murderer.”

“Calm down Scott,” Adam said. “We don’t have tell this man anything.”

Justin held up his hands. “Look, I just came over to say hi. Didn’t mean to cause any trouble. So I’ll leave and let all of you continue what you were doing.” Justin could feel them watching him as he walked to his car.

  • * * * * *

“I was hoping I would run into you.”

Kimberly turned to see it was Justin who had addressed her. Justin leaning against the building, a few feet from the entrance of the police station. “Well, you found me. Now what can I do for you?”

Justin pushed himself off the wall. “I was thinking maybe we could have dinner or something.”

“A date!?” Kimberly stared at Justin. “I don’t know. I might be busy. I mean, I don’t just sit at home waiting for men to call me.”

“Well, I wanted to talk to you about Mike Richards and ask about how the homicide investigations are going.”

“What, you want to talk business,” Kimberly approached Justin and took his arm. “Well, as far as I’m concerned, this is a date and you’re taking me to dinner.”

  • * * * * *

“The Purple Pig?” Justin stated in disbelief. “I know you could pick the place, but The Purple Pig? What kind of place is this?”

“One of the best barbecue places in the state,” Kimberly answered.

“Really?” Justin questioned. “The place looks like an overgrown shack.”

Kimberly chuckled. “This is the South. We have more shacks serving the best food than there are fleas in a dog pound. Now quit squawking and come on it. I promise you won’t be disappointed. You weren’t disappointed when we went to the Cactus Flower Saloon.”

Justin and Kimberly entered the restaurant and were greeted by an overweight teenager wearing an apron with grease and barbecue stains. He led them to a picnic table designed to seat two customers before leaving them with a roll of paper towels and two sheets of paper that served as the menus.

Justin picked the paper menu. “I see they specialized in giving customers high cholesterol. They have French fries, fired potatoes, fried catfish, and fried pickles. Fried pickles?”

“What?” Kimberly exclaimed with surprise. “You never had fried pickles? I thought you were a man of the world, had eaten in some of the most exotic restaurants of the world.”

“The only thing they are missing here is fried rice.”

Kimberly chuckled. “It ain’t Southern. That’s Chinese, and what they serve here is strictly Southern.”

Justin gave Kimberly look and took a minute to reflect. “Don’t you like international cuisine?”

“The closest thing they have to international cuisine in this town is Taco Bell and Panda Express.” Kimberly answered with a gentle  laugh. “Come on, give this place a try. I guarantee you will like the food.”

The waiter brought over two glasses of water. “You all ready to order yet?”

“Give us a few minutes,” Kimberly replied.

“Sure,” the waiter said as he turned his attention to other customers.

“Any recommendations?” Justin asked.

“They’re known for their ribs. I would recommend the quarter portion unless you are really hungry. They do serve large portions of everything here. Oh, and by the way, the cole slaw isn’t fried.”

Justin took another look at the menu. “Maybe I’ll go with the barbecue burger. Good news. It comes with a side of fried pickles.”

“Look, if this place bothers you so much, we can go somewhere else. I just thought you might find this place fun. After all, dates are supposed to be fun.”

Justin put down the paper menu. “Sorry. I don’t mean to act like a snob. Besides, I really need to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“About the charges against my client. I can understand Mike being arrested when you found Raymond Carlsen. But charging him with the murder of Paul Campbell is ridiculous. There’s no evidence he had anything to do with that.”

Kimberly folded her arms and leaned on the table. “You forget. It was the District Attorney who filed those charges against Wild Mike, not us.”

“But the least you could do is look into the possibility that Mike is innocent. I mean you should do a though investigation, not hang it on some guy because it’s convenient.”

“We didn’t hang on anyone because it was convenient. We aren’t lazy. We investigate, and I mean we really do investigate, chasing down every lead, no matter how slim, to get to the truth.”

Justin held up his hands to signal surrender. “I didn’t mean you weren’t doing your job. But I can’t believe you and your partner can actually think just because Mike lives out there in the woods, that he killed two people. Come on. Common sense says he didn’t do it.”

Kimberly uncrossed her arms and slammed her hands on the table. “Oh, now I have no common sense. First, I’m lazy; now I lack any common sense. I suppose I’m also an idiot, incapable of conducting any kind of investigation. In fact, it’s probably a miracle I can even read this menu.” Kimberly threw the paper menu at Justin, where it fluttered to a spot in front of him.

“I didn’t say you weren’t intelligent. It’s just seems like everyone wants to pin this on Mike. It’s like everyone has it out for him.

“You think he’s being persecuted? You think the whole town hates him? Well, you’re wrong. Mike was a swimming champ. We are proud of his athletic accomplishments, and that he served in the Armed Forces. People here don’t hate him. But since he’s been back, the people here don’t know how to talk to him, how to act around him. He scares people.”

“And that’s because he’s what? Not normal? He needs help, not to be thrown in jail.”

“We didn’t throw him in jail,” Kimberly shouted. “We arrested him, based on probable cause.”

“Still, you haven’t looked into anyone else. It’s possible he’s innocent.”

“And it’s just as possible he’s guilty,” Kimberly responded loudly.

“Please lower your voice,” Justin pleaded. “You’re blowing this out of proportion.”

“Blowing it out of proportion,” Kimberly shouted as she stood up. “Proportion this! I’m leaving.” Kimberly stormed out of the restaurant before Justin could respond.

The waiter timidly returned. “Are you ready to order,” he asked.

Justin stared at him, then stood up. He placed two dollars on the table. “I think we’ll be dining elsewhere tonight.”

Justin exited The Purple Pig and looked around the parking lot. He was surprised he could see Kimberly, especially since she was only a minute ahead of him. He got in his car and drove back the way they had come. In less than fifty yards, he found Kimberly walking along the road.

“Don’t you want a ride back to your car?” Justin asked as he rolled down the window to talk to Kimberly. “It’s at least a couple of miles back to the police station.”

“I can walk,” Kimberly answered. “I run farther than that most morning.”

“Look, I’m sorry,” Justin pleaded. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I know you and your partner are doing your job. But. . .”

“Don’t ruin it,” Kimberly interrupted as she opened the passenger door and got into Justin’s car. “Just take me back. And shut up.”

They made the ten-minute ride in silence, which was the longest ten minutes Justin ever experienced. He pulled up behind Kimberly’s car.

“Hey, I really want to apologize for upsetting you,” Justin said.

Kimberly held up her hand to cut him off. “I was really hoping for a nice evening; but you insulted me and my department. You are such a snob. You’re a lawyer, so you think you’re smarter than everyone else. Well, I don’t need that kind of attitude. And for the record, this is probably the worst date I’ve ever had.”

Kimberly opened the car door and set her foot outside. Suddenly she turned around, faced Justin and grabbed his shirt. She pulled him toward her, and kissed him. “It’s still a date and a date ends with a good-night kiss.” Kimberly got out and slammed the car door.

Justin stared in disbelief as Kimberly got in her car and drove off. He was convinced that woman was as mentally stable as a two-legged chair.

  • * * * * *

Chapter Thirteen

“Coffee,” Kimberly demanded as she walked into the office.

“Well, good morning to you too,” Steve replied.

“Not in the mood,” Kimberly retorted.

“Bad date last night?”

Kimberly stopped, still holding an empty coffee mug in one hand and the coffee pot in the other. “What makes you say that?”

Steve chuckled. “I’m a detective. I saw you go off with that lawyer last night. Figured if things went well, you would be in a good mood. You’re not, so obviously things didn’t go well.’

Kimberly poured herself a cup of coffee and returned to pot to the coffee maker. “Let’s say I’ve had better dates and leave it at that.”


Kimberly sat down at her desk, took a sip of coffee, and glared at Steve. “Do we have anything pressing for today?”

“Depends on your point of view. Our illustrious DA wants us to find more evidence against Wild Mike for the murder of Paul Campbell. I’m assuming he’s hoping we find additional evidence for the Raymond Carlsen murder also.”

“Either way, it’s back out to the lake.”

“I’m up for it,” Steve said as he got up from his chair.

“Let me finish my coffee first. Also, I want to review the case notes before going out there.”

  • * * * * *

“What brings you out to the lake,” Thom asked as Justin walked into the marina store. “It seems I’ve had more business with you and the cops this week than the fishermen.”

Justin waved and looked around the store. It reminded him of the old-fashion mom-and-pop stores where a first-generation family ran a neighborhood convenience store. Most of the merchandise was fishing tackle and equipment, although there was a selection of drinks, including beer, snacks, toiletries, and ready-made sandwiches. Justin grabbed a small bottle of orange juice and a couple of donuts.

“Don’t tell me that’s breakfast,” Thom said, ringing up the sale.

“Yeah, it is,” Justin answered. ’

“So other than criticizing your breakfast choice, what can I do for you?”

“You’ve heard about the second homicide out here.”

“Of course,” Thom chuckled. “This is a small town. You hear about everything.”

“What do you know about the second victim?”

Thom placed his hands on the counter and took a few seconds to collect his thoughts. “I know he was a college kid doing some kind of research on why so many fish were dying in the lake. He usually came out a couple times a week, went around collecting water samples, sometimes took a couple of the dead fish with him.”

“Did he ever have any arguments with anyone? Any hassles?”

“Not that I can remember.”

“What about with Mike Richards? Was there any conflicts between them?”

“I don’t think so. Don’t know why there would be. If you leave Wild Mike alone, he leaves you alone. And that kid didn’t bother anyone I know of.”

“When was the last time you saw him?’

“The kid from college? I think it was the same day that Carlsen was killed. I can’t be sure because I see so many people in a week, it’s hard to remember exactly, especially since he was missing for about a week before they found him.”

“Did you ever see anyone with Paul Campbell?’

“That’s the kid from the college? No, can’t say I have. I mean the kid talked to a lot of people out here. I think once or twice he had a girl with him. I kind of figured she was his girlfriend. But I don’t remember seeing him with anyone other than that.”

Justin pulled out a photograph of a young woman. “Is that the person you saw him with?”

“Couldn’t tell you,” Thom answered. “I really don’t remember her.”

“Is there anything at all you can tell me about Paul?”

“Nope. Like I said, he came out here a couple times a week, took samples, talked to the fishermen, and left. Didn’t cause any trouble.”

“And he didn’t have any contact with Mike Richards?”

“Didn’t say that. Just about everyone who comes out here runs into Wild Mike at some point. But like I said, if you leave him alone, he leaves you alone.”

“Has Mike had many altercations out here?”

“No, not really. He often scolds someone for littering. If it ever gets physical, Mike just shoves the person away and leaves. I’ve never seen him actually hit anyone.”

“Then why does everyone think Mike killed those two college students?”

“Because they were both beaten to death, and Wild Mike is the one person who could easily do it,” a voice from behind Justin answered.

Justin turned to see Detective Steve Tindall standing in the doorway. Behind him was Kimberly. Justin tried to hide the irritation in his voice, “So you’re out here to see what else you can dig up to send my client to prison.”

“We’re here conducting a police investigation,” Kimberly responded. “You know, doing our due diligence. You’ve heard of that, haven’t you?”

“Okay, okay, I deserved that. But I need your to understand. I firmly believe someone else killed those kids, not Mike.”

Steve grinned. “What makes you say that?”

“Think about it,” Justin replied. “Raymond Carlsen was killed two hours before his body was discovered. Within those two hours, Mike had to get rid of Raymond’s car, take Raymond’s wallet and cell phone back to his camp and hide them, then go down to the beach to drag Raymond’s body out of the lake. And now, you think he killed a second person. He was awfully busy for those two hours.”

“What makes you think did all that after he killed Raymond,” Steve stated. “It’s more likely Wild Mike did all that before he killed Raymond.”

Justin nodded he understood. “But’s just as likely he didn’t kill those kids.”

  • * * * * *

Chapter Fourteen

Adam Lingenfleter paced the floor of Bradner Hansen’s office.

“Stop that, will ya?” Bradner shouted in frustration. “You’re wearing a hole in the carpet.”

“Listen, we might have problems. I drove by the marina this morning. The cops and that lawyer, the one defending Mike Richards, were out there.”

“So what?”

“What if they find out what happened out there? It seems like they are still investigating the murder of those Carlsen and Campbell. It’s possible they may discover what is really happening out there.”

Bradner sat down at his desk and put his hands together to form a steeple with his fingers. After a moment of silence, he spoke. “Looks like I’ll have to have Nicole convince our future senator to step up the process, possibly get the trial to start. The sooner the better.”

Adam moved to the front of Bradner’s desk. “See that you get it done. We need that lawyer and the police to stop looking into these killings. We need to get it done before everyone ends up in jail.”

  • * * * * *

Justin stood outside Ava Shimley’s door, working up enough nerve to ring the doorbell. He wasn’t ready for a repeat of his last visit where he was forced to interview the woman naked. He reached out to press the doorbell. The door open. This time Justin was relieved to see Ava wearing a white tee shirt and blue jeans. He did notice she wasn’t wearing a bra and her perky breasts and nipples formed tempting curves beneath the shirt.

“Got tired of waiting for you to ring the doorbell,” Ava said, leaning against the doorframe. “Come on in. I promise I won’t bite.”

“Didn’t you tell me that last time?” Justin inquired with smile, trying to hide his anxiety.

“Did I bite?” Ava coyly answered as she stepped aside and motioned for Justin to enter.

“No,” Justin replied, remaining on the porch.

“So, what can I do for you today?”

“I’m sure you heard about the second homicide, Paul Campbell. They found his body out here at the lake a few days ago.”

“Of course. And you want to know if I know anything about it.”

“Did you know Paul?”

“Nope. I understand he was some college kid. Why would I know anything about him?”

“Well, he was doing some research out here. He wanted to find out why so many of the fish in the lake are dying. Maybe he came by and asked you some questions.”

“Not that I recall. But I don’t fish. My late husband did, but I don’t. The only thing I do is enjoy the view from my backyard. I rarely go down to the lake.”

“You don’t have any contact with the people coming to the lake? None at all?”

Ava chuckled. “I’m sure I’ve talked to some of them when I’m down at the marina, but none of them stick out in my mind. I’m neighborly, but not that neighborly. I kind of like my privacy.”

“I can understand that,” Justin replied with a grin. “But living out here, certainly you must have noticed something happening. Isn’t there anything unusual going on out here?”

Ava reached up and gave Justin’s cheek a little pat. “Honey, the only thing unusual out here lately has been a lot people asking questions. And I make it a point to know nothing.”

  • * * * * *

Wendy watched the young brunette with short hair and her domineering mother as they went through various magazines, commenting on wedding gowns and the groom’s choice of tuxedos. Rhonda Simmons smiled and offered encouragement, but Wendy could tell Rhonda welcomed the excuse to abandon the mother-daughter battle when a potential new customer entered the shop.

“How can I help you?” Rhonda cheerfully inquired with some hope of not having to return to the previous clients.

Wendy handed Rhonda a business card. “I’m Wendy Codwell. I work for the Public Defenders’ Office.”

“Oh yes,” Rhonda interrupted. “I met the most charming man from your office. Justin. Do you know him?”

“I should. I work with him.”

“Oh, do tell. What kind of person is he? I understand he’s single. He doesn’t have a girlfriend, does he?”

Wendy silently reminded herself she was here to get information, not give it out. “Sweetheart, the closest thing Justin has to a girlfriend is me, and I’m married with two kids in college.”

“How interesting.”

“Yeah, it keeps me awake at nights. Listen, I’m kind of hoping you could help me out here. Maybe you know some of the people involved in a case we are working.”

Rhonda crossed her arms but continued smiling. “You’re talking about Mike Richards.”

“That’s correct.”

“Mike doesn’t come in here. Our customers are those looking to get married. Mike’s been married for years.”

“I know. But I understand that Raymond Carlsen and his girlfriend, Charlisa Nickels, were planning to get married. Maybe you knew them?”

Rhonda laughed. “Wish I did. Handling a wedding for the son of our state senator, Phillip Carlsen. I would make a mint.”

“I’m taking it you don’t know them.”

“Know of them.”

“What about a Denise Stebbins and a Paul Campbell? They are also college students.”

Rhonda waved a hand to Wendy. “Now, her I know.” Rhonda took a small step forward and spoke in a low voice. “Most of my customers are like what you see over there. A bride with dreams and a mother who wants the wedding she never had, so she’s forcing it on her poor daughter. But this couple was different. Both the groom and the bride came in together and they seemed to agree on almost everything. I think it was because they couldn’t afford much. But I thought the groom was a fisherman. He smelled like fish. He was polite about it and apologized saying he had just finished work. He insisted on standing because he didn’t want smell up any of the furniture. I mean, I really liked the boy. I was so upset when I heard he had been killed. I know people say Mike did it, but I don’t believe that. That boy was so nice. I can’t imagine him getting into any kind of fight with Mike. Trust me on this. Mike can take care of himself; but one thing he is not, is a bully.”

“Do you know anyone who would want to hurt Paul?”

Rhonda shook her head. “Sorry, but I saw that boy with only two people. The first was his fiancée. The second was a professor out at the college.”

“Can you tell me who he is?”

“Well, I hate to sound racist and anti-Semitic. He’s Polish and Jewish. He has a name I could never pronounce correctly. But he’s a really nice guy. I see him all the time at Dannie’s Deli.”

Wendy reached over and took several of Rhonda’s business cards. “Thanks. I’m taking your cards and recommending you to all of my friends.”

The two women smiled and waved to each other as Wendy left the shop.

  • * * * * *

Entering Dannie’s Deli was a delight to the senses with the smell of freshly baked bread and colorful posters of European countryside. While there were several customers enjoying their meals at many of the tables in the restaurant, what caught Wendy’s attention was an elderly gentleman talking in a language she couldn’t place to a woman behind the counter.

“Welcome to Dannie’s Deli,” the woman said as Wendy approached the counter. “What can I get you?”

Wendy nodded to the gentleman. “Sorry to interrupt, but I’m looking for someone. I don’t know his name, but I’m told he is a professor out at the college and that Paul Campbell was one of his students.”

“I think you are looking for me,” the gentleman answered before Wendy could continue. “I am Aaron Kokolowski. I teach environmental science at the university.”

“And you’re Jewish?” Wendy timidly asked.

“Well of course. But you knew that when you heard us talking in Yiddish, didn’t you?” Kokolowski replied.

Wendy smiled before replying. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be anti-Semitic. I’m Wendy Codwell with the Public Defenders’ Office. A client of ours is suspected in the murder of Paul Campbell. I’m hoping you can tell me a little bit about Paul.”

“Oh, I would be glad to,” Kokolowski answered. “Can I offer you a cup of tea, or coffee. then we can sit and talk.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

“I’ll bring you out a pot of orange blossom tea,” the woman behind the counter said.

Kokolowski led Wendy to a nearby table where they sat across from each other. Wendy brought out her identification to assure Kokolowski she worked with the Public Defenders’ Office. The professor simply glanced at it and motioned for her to relax.

“How long have you been teaching out at the college?” Wendy asked.

“Ever since I came to this country, more than twenty years ago.”

“Really? You came from Poland to here?”

The professor chuckled. “I met my wife when she was doing research in Poland. We fell in love and I followed her to America.”

“What got you interested in environmental science?”

“Chernobyl. The disaster there affected everyone in Eastern Europe.”

“I hope no one in your family suffered and ill effects,” Wendy said with some sympathy.

“Unfortunately, my grandparents contracted cancer as a result of radiation poisoning. That is one reason why I am so concerned about us poisoning our environment.”

Wendy nodded in agreement. “What can you tell me about Paul Campbell?”

A waitress brought out a small ceramic pot of tea and two matching cups. The professor poured each of them a cup of tea before leaning back in his chair. He picked up his cup and took a small sip of tea, then replacing it on the table.

“There is much to say about Paul. He was a graduate assistant, and a very good student. His research project was about the fish dying out at the lake. He collected water samples and brought back several dead fish so that we could take tissue samples.”

“Were you able to determine what was killing the fish?”

Kokolowski gave a slight nod. “Yes, we discovered they were being poisoned. Someone is dumping toxic waste out there. It’s not a large-scale operation or all of the fish would be dying.”

“Were you able to find out who is doing it?”

“No. Like I said, it’s not a large operation. Probably it is a small office simply dumping the waste in the lake instead of paying for a company to properly disposing of it. Paul was able to find out where the strongest concentration of the poison was, which is probably the dump site.”

“Did you tell the police about this?”

“Of course.”

“Who did you tell?”

“A detective. I don’t remember his name; but he did write down the information.”

Wendy toyed with her cup of tea. “What kind of person was Paul?”

“He was a nice boy. He was engaged to get married. Did you know that?”

Wendy smiled. “Yes. I knew. I met his fiancée. She seems like a nice girl. Naturally, she’s very upset over Paul’s death.”

“Of course.”

“Was Paul aggressive? Did he confront anyone about the dumping at the lake?”

“I don’t know. But Paul was a quiet person. I never saw him angry.”

“Did he ever talk about a man out there, someone who lived in the woods?”

“Ah, you mean that Mike Richards fellow. No, but I met him once. Sometimes I would accompany Paul when he went out to get samples. I had to make sure he was doing it properly. I remember this fellow. He was not a nice man.”

“How’s that?”

“He wasn’t friendly.”

“Did he do or say anything threatening?”

“Yes, yes, he did. He told us we shouldn’t be there. He said it was dangerous and we could get hurt.”

“He did?”

“Yes. I think his exact words were ‘Looking for the answer could get you killed.’”

“When did he say that?”

“It was less than a week before Paul was killed.”

  • * * * * *

Chapter Fifteen

“Good morning,” Judge Gwen Whitlock said as she sat down behind her desk. She turned on her computer before looking across her desk at Justin and Connor Arnott seated before her. “I understand this meeting is to discuss moving up the trial date.”

“That’s correct your honor,” Connor stated.

“Why?” Judge Whitlock demanded.

Connor fidgeted with his tie. “The prosecution is ready, and we see no advantage is delaying the trial. Everyone wants closure. This affair is causing fear and anxiety in the community.”

Judge Whitlock turned to Justin. “How about you? Are you ready to go to trial?”

“No, your honor.”

“What more do you need to do and when will you be ready?”

Justin fidgeted in his seat. “Your honor, we believe that our client is innocence. We are conducting our own independent investigation to not only prove Mike Richards is innocent but find the actual killer of the two college students.”

Judge Whitlock leaned back in her chair and gave Justin a look of disbelief. “I admire your commitment and loyalty to your client. Do you have any substantial leads? Anything to clear you client or to lead to another suspect?”

“Not at this time.”

Connor moved forward in his seat and motioned with his hand to emphasize a point. “Furthermore, the police have concluded their investigation. And they have not found any evidence of anyone else being involved. The defense is stalling. There is no reason for a delay.”

“Is that right?” Judge Whitlock asked.

“No, your honor. We really do need more time to complete our investigation.”

Judge Whitlock continued to lean back in her chair, starring at both Connor and Justin. “I have a very selfish reason for wanting this trial to be over as quickly as possible. My son is looking at colleges starting next month, and I would like to go with him. However, my personal life cannot dictate my court schedule. Still, I see no reason to delay. However, I will give the defense one more week to conclude its investigation, or at least come up with a reasonable cause to postpone the trial.”

“Your honor, that’s not enough time,” Justin objected.

“If you had some leads or reason to postpone, I would give you more time. But you don’t; so the trial begins in one week. Counselors, thank you for your time.” Judge Whitlock moved forward in her chair and turned her attention to her computer.

Justin let out a silent groan while Connor brushed his lapel and grinned.

Judge Whitlock continued to look at her computer. “Gentlemen, that was your signal to leave.”

  • * * * * *

A cup of lukewarm coffee and a frustrated Wendy greeted Justin as he entered his office. Wendy watched as he dropped his briefcase on the floor and took his seat. Justin picked up the coffee and took a sip, grimacing as he put the cup down on his desk. He glanced at Wendy before getting up and emptying the leftover coffee in a potted plant. He looked at the coffee machine, but sat down with his empty cup instead.

“You’ll kill that poor plant if you keep doing that,” Wendy commented.

“That plant is indestructible. It’s was here when I moved into this office.

“Still, that’s no reason to treat it so cruelly.”

“Hey, you made the coffee. Don’t blame me.”

Wendy chuckled. “The only reason I make coffee is I can’t afford to buy it at that fancy coffee shop in the lobby. They charge almost four dollars for a cup.”

“Life is full of injustices.”

“Which means your meeting with Judge Whitlock didn’t go well.”

Justin let out a deep sigh. “She moved up the trial date. It begins in one week.”

Wendy let out a groan as she got up and grabbed her purse and a clipboard with a yellow, legal pad. “Then we have to get busy proving our client is innocent. I’ll take High Road.”

“Guess that leaves me going back out to the university.”

  • * * * *  *

Wendy stopped her car on High Road. She let out a deep breath as she observed the row of million-dollar homes lining one side of the street. The paved passage was well maintain along the side with homes while across from them laid an open field overgrown with weeds. Out of the dozen homes on High Road, only three had full-time residents. Wendy pulled her foot off the brake and continued along High Road to Ava Shimley’s home. She pulled into the driveway and parked behind four-year-old blue Ford hatchback.

A portly, middle-aged woman wearing jeans and an Aloha-flowered blouse answered the doorbell when Wendy rang it. She wiped her hands on small white towel as she stared at Wendy.

“Good morning,” Wendy said. “I’m Wendy Codwell from the Public Defenders’ Office. Is Ms. Shimley at home?”

“No, she isn’t.”

“Do you know when she’ll be back?”

The woman shrugged her shoulders. “No, I’m sorry, but I don’t. I’m just one of the cleaning crew. We don’t live here, so we don’t have much communication with Ms. Shimley.”

“Why is that?”

“The woman is bit of a snob,” the woman answered. “Not that she should be. She was a cocktail waitress at some hotel in Puerto Rico where she met Mr. Shimley. He brought her back. That woman wasn’t here more than two minutes before she starts acting like queen of the county. Poor Mr. Shimley was so in love with her, she could do anything she wanted. So she made everyone leave the house. It was just her and Mr. Shimley up until the day he died; then it was just her.”

“And now?”

“Just her.”

Wendy looked around. “You mean she’s the only one who lives out here. How often do you come in?”

“Just once a week. There isn’t much to clean. The master bedroom and bath takes the most time. She eats mostly take out or leftovers from restaurants, so the kitchen takes less than an hour. Tell you the truth, I think she spends more time outside at the pool than anywhere else.”

“Tell me, do you know a person they call Wild Mike?”

The cleaning woman laughed. “Of course. We see him all the time around here. Why?”

“Have you or Ms. Shimley ever had any problems with him?”

“We haven’t, but Ms. Shimley told us he’s not to come on the property.”

“Why is that?”

“I don’t know,” the cleaning woman replied. “But she was adamant about him not coming to the house. Didn’t really matter. He never came up here. He was always down at shoreline of the lake.”

  • * * * * *

The best places to find any particular student were the gym, the library, or the campus coffee shop; and on this campus it was Ivy Tower. There was a cafeteria line serving various pastries, pre-made sandwiches, and packaged snacks. Students would get a cup and pay the cashier. They were then welcome to help themselves to as many refills of any beverage they desired.

Justin noticed most of them got coffee or tea. Justin found a table in one corner that gave him a complete view of the establishment. He looked down at his donut and coffee, and wondered if Wendy’s habits were rubbing off on him. He brought a novel with him and pulled it out. He made sure he was comfortable since there was no telling how long he would have to wait.

An hour later, Justin was glad he had brought the novel and had finished at least seventy pages in it. He was even happier when he spotted the person he was waiting for.

Several others noticed Denise Stebbins as she went through the line and got a sandwich and coffee, but their interest was focused on her slender figure and the hope of getting a chance to get capture the young lady’s phone number. Denise was dressed in jeans and a baggy green shirt promoting a bar in Fort Lauderdale. Justin waited for her to find a seat. He held off for a few minutes, giving her a chance to settle in. He packed up his novel, walked over to her table, and sat down.

“Please, sit down and make yourself comfortable,” she said sarcastically.

“Thank you. I will.”

“I’ve noticed. What do you want?”

Justin noted the hostility in her voice. “First of all, I’m on your side. Like you, I want to find the person who killed Paul. I don’t believe it was Mike Richards. He had no reason to kill your boyfriend.”

“Yeah, I figured; but you’re wrong.” Denise responded with hostility still in her voice.

“Paul,” Justin intentionally using the boyfriend’s name, “was probably killed because he found out what was killing the fish out at the lake.”


Justin put his elbows on the table and tapped the table top. “Let’s assume Paul was killed for that reason. Mike Richards wasn’t doing anything to kill the fish. In fact, Mike was extremely conscientious about protecting the environment.”

“What makes you think that?”

“My associate talked to Paul’s professor. He stated Paul may have found the source of the pollution that was killing the fish.”

“Yes, Dr. Kokolowski. He’s a really nice guy. He arranged for me to get some counseling from a friend of his. It’s helping, but. . .”

“I know. It’s hard dealing with the loss of someone you care for. But I want to get back to what this professor said. He said that someone was dumping toxic waste in to the lake, and that was killing the fish.”

“And you think whoever is dumping these chemicals into the lake killed Paul.”

“It’s possible. It’s definitely a motive.”

Denise leaned back in her chair and crossed her arm over her chest. She sat silently, thinking of what to say. “I know Paul was trying to find out who was poisoning the lake. And you have a point, but I wonder if it’s true. What kind of crime is dumping waste in a lake? What? The person gets a fine? Would someone kill another person just to avoid paying a fine? I don’t think so.”

“Unfortunately, I have to tell you I know of several cases where a person was killed for a lot less. Still, what I need to know is if Paul ever told you who was dumping the chemicals.”

Denise shook her head. “No. If he knew, I’m sure he would have told Dr. Kokolowski or someone else. But he did say he believed it was taking place at night. He had been out there several times, both during the day and at night. He told me he saw some strange things on the lake at night. I told him it was probably some people fishing at night.”

“What else did he tell you about these nighttime activities?”

“The only person he ever saw was Wild Mike. He was standing on the shore with his binoculars.”

  • * * * * *

Chapter Sixteen

Three men watched Mike Richards as he stared at the clouds from a bench in the fenced-in yard of the county jail. Mike noticed them as soon as they started moving in his direction. While he continued to stare at the sky, he could tell the three were harden by several stints behind bars. One of them, who seemed to be the leader had four teardrops tattooed on his face. A second one, wearing a tee shirt, had sleeve tattoos on both muscular arms. The last one had no visible tattoos, but walked with a slight limp. The three approached Mike, the one with the teardrops standing in front while his partners stood on either side of Mike.

“Hey, Wild Man,” Teardrop said.

“Please don’t,” Mike replied.

Teardrop chuckled as he glanced at his compatriots. “Don’t what?”

Mike stood up and took a step closer to Teardrop. “Don’t do what you’re about to. I’m really not in the mood and I really don’t want to.”

“Don’t want to do what?” Teardrop said menacingly.

Mike took a deep breath. “You’ve been paid to give me a beating.”

“What makes you think we were paid,” Tee Shirt answered with a grin. “Maybe we just want to whip your ass for fun.”

“You can’t be that stupid,” Mike responded.

Tee Shirt grabbed Mike and put him in a full Nelson, turning Mike to face the man with a limp. He moved toward Mike. Mike picked up his feet and thrusted them out, striking his assailant square in the chest. Mike brought down his feet, scrapping the shins of the man holding him and stomping on the man’s right foot. Teardrop pulled out a makeshift knife. Mike grabbed Tee Shirt’s arms, turning him and pushing him into Teardrop, causing Teardrop to stab Tee Shirt in the back. Blood spurted out when Teardrop pulled the knife from Tee Shirt’s back. Both Tee Shirt and Teardrop were still standing, so Mike shoved Tee Shirt back into Teardrop’s knife a second time. Tee Shirt dropped to the ground. Teardrop had the knife in his hand. He lunged at Mike. Mike sidestepped the attack and grabbed Teardrop’s hand holding the knife. Swinging his leg back, Mike was able to pull Teardrop off balance and spin him around before shoving him into the man with the limp. Mike kicked at Teardrop’s knee, forcing him to kneel on the ground. Mike jumped up and came down with a hard blow to Teardrop’s head, knocking him to the ground. The man with the limp was the only one left. Mike could tell he was trying to decide whether to run or fight. Mike didn’t give him a choice. Mike took two steps forward and jump kicked the man in the chest, knocking the wind out him. Before his opponent could catch his breath, Mike lifted his leg and kicked the man in the face with the side of his foot. The man with the limp went down.

Teardrop groaned. Mike knelt down and grabbed Teardrop’s hair. “It turns out you really can be that stupid,” Mike stated as he pulled up Teardrop’s head. “Tell me who sent you.”

Teardrop gave Mike a bloody smile. “I ain’t telling you. . .”

Mike slammed the man’s face into the ground before he could complete the sentence.

  • * * * * *

Justin stormed into Kimberly’s office. “I demand to see my client,” he shouted.

Kimberly stood up and walked around her desk, stopping a few feet from Justin. She folded her arms and stared at him. “You do not get to come into my office and make demands.”

“And you have no right to deny me access to my client,” Justin continued to shout.

Kimberly glared at Justin. “What are you talking about?”

“He’s talking about Wild Mike being in isolation,” Steve answered as he entered the office. “There was a fight at the jail. Three dudes jumped Wild Mike, so he was put into solitary.”

“What about medical help?” Justin demanded. “How badly was he hurt? Is he going to be okay?”

Steve chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” Justin shouted. “What kind of jail are you running?”

“We don’t run the jail,” Steve replied. “The Sheriff’s Office controls the jail. And for your information, Wild Mike is fine, which is more than can be said for the three guys who jumped him. He sent all three of them to the emergency room.”

“So my client is in solitary because he was attacked. You’re going to tell me it’s for his own protection.”

“Probably more for the protection of the other inmates,” Kimberly said as she stepped over to her desk and picked up the handset of her phone. “I’ll call and get them to get you access to Mike.”

  • * * * * *

There was nothing special about Bradner Henson’s office. The door led into a room with a single large window behind Bradner’s desk. The wall opposite the door and the one facing Bradner’s desk was filled with plagues and certificates. This guy has one hell of a Love me wall Wendy thought to herself. What an ego he must have.

Bradner looked up from his desk. “Pretty impressive, isn’t it? I was named the best business owner four years in a row. No one in this town can say that. So, what can I do for you?”

This guy really does have an ego, Wendy said to herself. She sat down in one of the two chairs in front of Bradner’s desk. Wendy smiled before taking out several photos of homes on High Road and the empty field across from them. “I was up on High Road and I noticed a few things which seemed abnormal.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the homes on High Road,” Bradner emphatically stated. “I should know. I helped sell most of the homes up there.”

Wendy held up her hand to cut Bradner off. “I didn’t say there was anything wrong with the homes. But I have noticed several things.”

“What,” Bradner demanded.

Wendy made a mental note of Bradner’s tone of voice. “There are more than a dozen homes on High Road, but only three of them are inhabited. Who owns the other homes?”

Bradner chuckled. “Most of them are vacation homes. The owners come down in the summer or on holiday weekends. A couple of them are short-term rentals, which I manage. I can assure you there is nothing improper with that.”

“Didn’t say there was anything improper about the homes. But I am curious as why homes were build on only one side of the road and why there is such a large empty field on the other side? Why hasn’t anyone tried to develop the land on the side?”

Bradner took a deep breath. “Is that your question? I would think the answer is obvious. Money. It takes a large sum of money and investors to develop any kind of housing project.”

“Can you tell me who owns the land?”

“No,” Bradner snapped. “I don’t know who, or if anyone is planning on developing that property.”

“Really? I would think someone would want to develop the area. It’s such a great spot.”

“I know. Still, it took some time to sell the homes that are on High Road. I guess it’s just not worth the money and effort to develop it.”

“Well I don’t know much about real estate development. That’s why I wanted to talk to you.”

“No problem,” Bradner replied. “Was there anything else I could help you with?”

“Well there is the issue of Raymond Carlsen. Perhaps you could tell me what he was doing at the lake that night? Did you see anything out of the ordinary?”

“No,” Bradner snapped again. “I have no idea why he was on High Road.”

Wendy got up for her chair. “Well in that case, sorry to have bothered you. Thank you so much for your help.”

“Glad to be of assistance,” Bradner replied with some irritation in his voice. “I’ll do whatever I can to see that murdered behind bars.”

Wendy walked to the door before turning to face Bradner. “Interesting thing. You said you didn’t know why Carlsen was on High Road. The strange thing is no one has said that Mike Richards was there that night. Strange, isn’t it?” Wendy left without waiting for a response.

Bradner watched Wendy as she left the building and got into her car. As soon as she left the parking lot, he picked up the phone.

  • * * * * *

Chapter Seventeen

Three deputies escorted Mike into the room used by lawyers when interviewing their clients in jail. Mike’s hands were handcuffed and attached to a chain around his waist. The chain was also connected to shackles around his ankles. Justin, seated at the steel table, motioned for Mike to sit on one of the steel stools across the table. Mike sat down and the three deputies stepped to the back of the room.

“Could you please remove the shackles from my client,” Justin said pointing to Mike’s chains.

“You sure that’s a good idea?” one of the deputies responded.

Justin tapped his yellow legal tablet with his pen. “I’m his lawyer. Trust me. It’s in his best interest not to hurt me. So please, remove the cuffs and leave us.”

The deputy came over and unlocked the shackles on Mike. “We’ll be right outside the door if you need us.”

“He won’t,” Mike replied. “I promise to be a good little boy.”

The deputy grunted. He had the others grudgingly left the room.

Justin nodded towards the door. “I get the feeling you’re not on their Christmas card list.”

Mike rubbed his wrists “I’ll get over it.”

“What happened? Tell me about the attack.”

“What’s to tell? Someone paid three thugs to rough me up, probably to kill me.”


“Don’t know.”

“Bull! Someone wants to make sure you don’t talk. You know something; something that will put someone in prison; something that will prove you’re innocent.”

Mike glared at Justin. Justin returned the stare. “Tell me again what happened that night,” Justin demanded. “Tell me every little detail.”

Mike chuckled. “Here I go again. I heard some noises, engines on the water on the lake. I went down to the shoreline and saw some lights. I could hear people talking. Couldn’t make out what they were saying, but I could hear them. I heard a splash. Then the boat left. I waited for a couple of minutes, to make sure the boat was gone. I saw something in the water. I realized it was a person. I guess they thought is would sink on its own or they didn’t weigh it down properly. I went into the water and pulled him to the shore. I discovered the person was dead. Before I could do anything, I heard the police yelling at me. They said I killed the person and they started after me. I figured it would be a good idea for me to run. I knew I could turn myself in later without some excited cops chasing me, and probably shooting me. I made my way to that boathouse where the detective caught me. Fortunately for me, she knew what she was doing and I had a chance to surrender before getting shot.”

“I’m surprised you made it all the way to the Marina before anyone caught you.”

Mike scoffed. “I didn’t go the Marina. That’s where whoever killed the guy was. I went to the boathouse below High Road.”

“There’s a boathouse at High Road?”

“Yeah. Wait! You thought there was only one dock. There’s one below High Road. There’s another old one by the stream running out of the lake, but no one uses that one anymore.”

“Are you sure?” Justin asked. “Someone was on that lake. Where did they come from?”

“Don’t know,” Mike replied. “All I know was they went in one direction, I went in another.”

“But they didn’t come from the boat house where Detective Simmons arrested you.”

“Nope, they disappeared into the night before anyone could see them.”

“And left you as the only suspect of the murder of Raymond Carlsen.”

  • * * * * *

Denise was used to having the boys at the college stare at her. Normally, she would take some pleasure in it. After all, she was attractive, had an excellent figure, was fairly intelligent and could be charming when it suited her. But right now, she was still dealing with the death of her boyfriend, Paul Campbell. Denise wasn’t in the mood for some guy hitting on her hoping for a date. She took a second look at the two guys staring at her. No, they weren’t interested in asking her for a date. She didn’t know why they were staring at her; all she knew was they were giving the creeps.

  • * * * * *

“Are you sure this is the place?”

Kimberly stared at Justin. “Of course I’m sure. I arrested him. I know where I arrested him, Okay?”

“But this was never in the police report,” Justin angrily answered.

“Yes. it was,” Kimberly shouted. “You just didn’t read it carefully enough to realize the boathouse wasn’t the same one at the marina.”

“So what else aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing. Everything is in the report. You just need to read it without a closed mind.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Kimberly crossed her arms. “Like the police botched the investigation. It was simple. We got a call. We checked it out. Found Wild Mike at the scene. Chased him down. Searched his campsite and found evidence tying him the victim. We did everything by the book.”

“But you know as well as I do, Mike is innocent.”

Kimberly smirked. “Of course. Why do you think I’m here?”

  • * * * * *

“Hansen Reality. How can I help you?”

“It’s me,” the voice at the other end of the phone answered.

“Yeah, I can tell it’s you,” Bradner said. “Why are you calling?”

“Something’s come up.”

“What?” Bradner demanded.

“It’s that detective. She out here at the lake with the lawyer for Wild Mike.”


“So, if they keep looking, they just might find something. And that something will put us all in prison.”

“Don’t lay this on me.”

“Listen! This is all your fault. If you had been more careful, that college kid would have never been poking around, and nothing would have happened.”

“Don’t you accuse me of murder?” Bradner stated.

“Hey, if I go down, you go down too.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“I’m stating a fact,” the voice said. “We’re in this together, whether we like it or not.

  • * * * * *

Chapter Eighteen

Denise watched the young lady as she got a cup of coffee and sat down at the counter by the window. Denise walked over and sat down beside her, startling her with unwelcomed company.

“Just who are you?” the young lady asked.

“I’m Denise Stebbins. Paul Campbell was my boyfriend until he was murdered out at the lake with yours.”


“You’re Charlisa Nickels. You used to date Raymond Carlsen. Now they’re both dead. Both killed out at the lake.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So, there has to be a connection between the two murders, especially since the same man killed them both.”

Charlisa took a deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry about your boyfriend. But I didn’t know him and I doubt that Raymond did either. Unless your boyfriend was a law student, I can’t think of any connection between the two of them. I have no idea why some homeless guy would kill them except that he’s crazy and they just happened to be out there. Wrong place at the wrong time.”

“You ever talk to Wild Mike?”

“Is that the guy who killed your boyfriend?”


“No, never talked to him. Don’t know him and don’t want too.”

“So, why was your boyfriend out at the lake?”

“What’s with the third degree? Who are you? Are you some kind of cop?”

“No. I’m the girlfriend of a person who was killed out there. I just want to know why Wild Mike would want to kill our boyfriends.”

Charlisa gathered her books and coffee. “I don’t know. If you want information, call 4-1-1.” Charlisa left before Denise could answer.

  • * * * * *

“We’re going to have start all over again,” Justin shouted as he walked into the office.

“Screw that,” Wendy answered. “I’m taking the bar exam again, and I’m certainly not starting out at our pitiful starting salary. We’re already overworked, underpaid, and unappreciated.”

Justin stared at Wendy, who stared back. He sat down at his desk and started going through the papers on it. “I was referring to our client, Mike Richards. I’m positive he didn’t commit the two murders the DA is charging him with.”

“This sudden commitment wouldn’t have something to do with an attractive homicide detective?”

“No, it doesn’t. It has to do with a body on the lake’s shoreline, Mike being taken into custody at a boathouse a mile away, and the police finding evidence at Mike’s campsite; and the fact all of this took place in a matter of hours. Then there is the missing boat.”

“What missing boat?”

“Mike said he saw a boat out on the lake the night of the murder. It was the people in the boat who killed Raymond Carlsen and dumped his body in the water.”

Wendy got up and walked over to the coffee maker.

“What are you doing?” Justin demanded. “We have work to do.”

“And I’m making a fresh pot of coffee,” Wendy answered. “I have a feeling we’re going to be putting in a lot of late nights before the hearing starts.”

  • * * * * *

“You’re late,” Nicole stated as she answered the doorbell. “I expected you here twenty minutes ago.”

“Sorry Ms. Welsh,” the young man answered. He tried not to stare at Nicole dressed in tight jeans and a red tee shirt knotted above her navel. He noticed she wasn’t wearing a bra. “It took longer than we expected to gather all the information you asked for.”

Nicole motioned for the young man to enter. “It’s Dale Knief, isn’t it? You’re one of the interns that Adam sent over.”

“That’s right ma’am.”

“Don’t call me ma’am.” Nicole walked into living room, having Dale follow her. She sat down on a couch and motioned for Dale to take a seat in a chair facing her. “You have the material I asked for?”

“Of course. Here you are.”

Nicole took the papers. She spent several minutes in silence looking over them, ensuring everything she need was there. Dale sat quietly, daring not to breath to loud.

“Everything seems to be here,” Nicole said, laying the papers next to her. “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

“No ma’am.”

“I told you don’t call me ma’am. I’m not an old lady.” Nicole took a drag from her cigarette. She exhaled and raised her chin slightly. “Call me Nicole.”

Dale swallowed as he stared at Nicole, who even in her forties, had a sensual figure and striking good looks. “Yes, ma. . . , I mean Nicole.”

“That’s better,” she said. “I’m sure you heard about this nasty business with this homeless man killing poor Raymond.”

“Yes, I have.”

“So, what can you tell me about Raymond?”

“Not much. We didn’t really hang out. His father is Philip Carlsen. He’s a state senator. I understand he’s kind of powerful. Raymond was in law school and an intern like me.”

“I know all that,” Nicole stated. “But what kind of person was he? Did he do drugs? Did he have a temper? Did he cause any trouble at work?”

“Not that I know of,” Dale answered. “To be honest, I thought he was a bit stuck up. But he seemed okay. I don’t know of any problems with him.”

“Do you know why he was out here the night he was killed?”

“I kind of figured he was delivering something to you.”

“He wasn’t. In fact, I didn’t see him at all that day.”

“Yes, you did,” Dale contradicted Nicole, instantly regretting it. “You talked to him at the office. It was a few minutes before you left.”

“I’m surprised you remember that so well. I have no recollection of any such encounter.”

“That’s because the cops asked me about Raymond’s activities and daily activities at the office. If they hadn’t asked right after Raymond was killed, I wouldn’t have remembered it.”

“Well, I’m glad you did. I appreciate your honesty. So, tell me about yourself.”

“Not much to tell. I’m a law student. This internship is a chance for me to learn what really goes on in a law office.”

“Tell me about your family.”

“My family? Well, my father’s a photographer for a news service. He gets to travel a lot. My mother is a substitute teacher, mostly for math and science. I have a brother. He’s in the Marines; just got back from Japan.”

“What about you? What are your plans? Where do you see yourself in five years?”

Dale glanced down at his hands. “Well, after law school, I take the bar exam. Hopefully I pass it and I can start working at firm.”

“What kind of law do you want to practice?”

“Hadn’t really thought about it. Probably family law, although I think criminal law would be really interesting.”

Nicole leaned forward and put her cigarette out in an ashtray. “Those are some interesting fields, and they can be rewarding; but not very profitable. The really successful lawyers practice dull stuff such as corporate law, tax law, or personal injury cases. So you need to decide if you want to work long hours, putting up with people’s problems, most of who are lying to you; and you earn very little money, especially in private practice; or do you want to go into a law firm that can guarantee a very profitable living.”

“You have a good point there. I guess it’s a choice all lawyers have to make.”

“Well do think about it, will you? And let me know what you decide. I would be happy to help you anyway I can.”

Dale nodded his head and smiled to hide the queasy feeling he got in his stomach.

* * * *

Chapter Nineteen

“Isn’t this romantic?” Steve said as he and Kimberly walked along the lake shoreline. “Two people walking together in the moonlight, with the waves gently lapping at the shore.

“You’re married,” Kimberly answered. “And in the three years we’ve been working together the most romantic thing you’ve ever done for me is give me a Christmas card.”

“Hey, I gave you something for your last birthday.”

“You bought me a donut.”

“It’s the thought that counts. But if you want, we could call that public defender you’re so interested in.”

“Who said I was interested in him?”

“I’ve seen you pissed at only two lawyers. The first is our DA, Conor Arnott. I can’t blame you for that. He is an ass. The second is this public defender. He’s not an ass; and you can’t that angry at someone just because he’s doing his job.”

“I didn’t realize you were such an expert on human nature.”

“Have to be. I’m a detective.”

Kimberly stopped. “Wasn’t it around here where Raymond Carlsen’s body was found?”

“It was.”

Kimberly slowly turned around in a complete circle. The shoreline varied from ten to twenty feet along the lake. Trees formed a boundary. The underbrush was sparse, leaving plenty of room for people to walk through the trees to the road leading up the houses on High Road. Even with a large flashlight, Kimberly couldn’t see the road. She stared out at the water. The trees darken much of it with their reflections on the water. Further out, about fifty feet away, the moonlight reflected off the still waters. Kimberly listened to the frogs along the banks. Far off she heard the rustling of leaves, signaling the passing of an animal through the trees. Then, from over the water, she heard faint music coming from the marina more than a mile away. Someone was having a party.

“I don’t see how Wild Mike could have seen anything out here,” Kimberly said, turning to face Steve.

“You’re not a Marine Corps sniper. And you forget, the night we arrested Wild Mike, there was a full moon.”

“So you’re saying. . .”

Steve pointed out over the water. “That night he could see out over the water.”

“So you think he was telling the truth. He’s innocent.”

“I didn’t say that.”

Kimberly glared at Steve. “Then just what do you think?”

“I think the case is closed, and in less than a week, the DA is going to put Mike Richards on trial for the murders of Raymond Carlsen and Paul Campbell.”

“Then why are you out here, Mr. Romantic?”

“Like I said; the DA is an ass.”

  • * * * * *

Justin entered his office to find Wendy at her desk with her usual morning cup of coffee and two donuts. What surprised him was the donut and empty mug setting on the counter next to the coffee machine.

“Don’t touch that,” Wendy commanded. “They’re not for you.”

Justin walked to his desk. “Who are they for?” he asked as he sat down.

“For our guest, who should be arriving at any moment.”

“We have a guest?’

“We have a guest. And you need to be nice to her.”

Justin groaned. “Not Detective Simmons. I saw her yesterday.”

Wendy turned to face Justin. “A bit self-centered, aren’t we? What makes you think our guest is here to see you? And, what makes you think it’s Detective Simmons? I’m sure if you two wanted to get together, I wouldn’t have to make an appointment.”

“Then who is it?”

“On no, I’m not ruining the surprise.”

Justin gave Wendy a look of disapproval, which she enjoyed. He thought it was too early in the morning for him to be dealing with Wendy’s games. He turned on his computer. While it was warming up, he pulled out the files he had on Mike Richards. He could see that the police followed all of the proper procedures, and that he wouldn’t be able to get any of the evidence thrown out. Still, the collection of the physical evidence at Mike’s campsite bothered him. He would need to examine it more closely. Before he could begin the process, there was a knock at the door.

Wendy got up to open the door. “Please come in my dear.” Wendy stepped aside to make room for the young lady to enter. Justin realized their morning guest was Kristen Richards, Mike’s wife.

“Good morning,” Kristen said with a slight bow of her head. “I hope I’m not late.”

“Of course not, dear.” Wendy led Kristen into the office. “Just have a seat in front of my desk while I get you a cup of coffee and a donut.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary,” Kristen responded.

“Nonsense,” Wendy stated as  she set the coffee and donut on the front of her desk. “You’re my guest and I insist on treating you right. By the way, you already know my colleague, Justin Ainsley.

“Yes, thank you.”

Justin stood up and waited for Kristen to sit down before resuming his seat. “It’s good of you to come in. We really should have called you sooner to update you on the case.”

“Actually,” Wendy interrupted, “she’s here to give us an update.” Wendy could see her statement confused Justin, something that gave her a bit more pleasure.

Justin regained his composure. “By all means. Please Ms. Richards. Tell us. Anything you can provide us to help Mike will be most welcomed.”

Kristen looked at Wendy before returning her gaze to Justin. “Who am I supposed to talk to?”

“To me,” Wendy answered. “I asked you in here to discuss Mike’s behavior. But before we get to that, please help yourself to the coffee and the donut. I want you to relax. We are just talking.”

Kristen slowly picked up the coffee and took a sip.

“Good,” Wendy acknowledged. “Now, like I said, we’re just talking. First of all, I want you to know that Justin and I truly appreciate Mike’s service to our country. And, we appreciate your service too. I know it can’t be easy being the wife of a service member who is serving in a combat zone so far from home.’

Kristen nodded in agreement.

Wendy pushed the donut closer to Kristen. “What we really need to know is why Mike was out in the woods instead of living at home. It’s obvious you care for him, and he cares for you. He’s getting treatment through the VA. So why is he living out in the woods?”

Kristen pulled a tissue from her purse and dabbed her eyes. “I honestly don’t know. When he got back last time, he couldn’t sit still. Everything bothered him. The slightest sound, especially at night, would freak him out. He couldn’t go to sleep until I after I did. And if I would drop something like the TV remote, he would jump and yell for me to be more careful. He even found the cat made too much noise when it was walking around the house; and he’s an animal lover. In fact, he’s the one who picked out the cat from the animal shelter. He believed in rescuing animals.”

“But why live in the woods?”

“Well, he’s always loved outdoors. He was into scouting when he was in high school. He loved camping. He took me with him several times. I wasn’t that comfortable with sleeping on the ground, but he loved it. He seemed to be one with nature. I think that’s what made him so good at being a sniper. He was so comfortable in the wild.”

“Ms. Richards, I mean Kristen. I hope you don’t mind me calling you Kristen.”

“Not at all,” Kristen replied to Wendy.

“Anxiety and a love for the outdoors doesn’t explain why he was living in the woods.”

Kristen took a moment to gather her thoughts. “He was extremely upset when he came back home. We got into several arguments over petty things. Sometimes it was me making too much noise while doing something. Other times it was because he felt I was nagging him to do some chore around the house such as change a light bulb. I remember that one because he threw the bulb at the wall, and I had to clean up the broken glass. I even ended up changing it myself. I guess, I just drove him out of the house. I don’t know why, or how. He just couldn’t seem to adjust back to our way of life.”

Wendy made a quick note on her legal pad, before placing her pen down. “I’m sure you didn’t do anything to deserve what happened. I’ve know several cases of service members coming back with PTSD and having the greatest difficulty readjusting.”

“Thank you,” Kristen said with a small sniffle.

“Perhaps you could tell us about the binoculars?” Justin said. “It seems he always had them with him and several people stated he was spying on them.”

Kristen smiled. “No, he wasn’t. He had a friend in the Marines, David Higgins. They both loved the outdoors. David was an avid bird watcher. He taught Mike several things about birds and how people could learn things about the woods from them. I noticed Mike got interested in bird watching when he got back. I found out later David was killed on their last tour. I think that’s why Mike took up bird watching. I know he likes watching the eagles out at the lake.”

Justin leaned forward in his chair. “So Mike was a bird watcher, not someone spying on people.”

Kristen grinned. “Well, I’m sure he wasn’t spying; but I’ll bet he saw some things out there that people didn’t want him to see.

  • * * * * *

Chapter Twenty

“I can’t believe you talked me into Greek food for lunch,” Steve complained.

Kimberly stared at Steve. “If it were up to you, we would be eating nothing but donuts and hamburgers 24/7. Besides, what’s wrong with Greek food?”

“I have a problem with eating food that I can’t pronounce.”

“You had no problem finishing everything on your plate.”

“I was being polite.”

A female police officer entered the detectives’ office. “Excuse me,” she said. “The desk sergeant asked me to bring you down to booking.”

Kimberly glanced at Steve before motioning for the young woman to lead the way. The two detectives followed the patrol officer downstairs to one of the detention cells. Inside were four young adults, two men and two women. All of them were in their early-twenties. The men wore shorts and tee shirts. The two women were dressed in gym shorts and thin shirts covering their bikini tops. The four in the cell stared at the detectives.

“Who are you?” one of the young men demanded.

“I’m Detective Simmons and my partner, Detective Tindall.”

“So, what do you what?” the young man asked with hostility in his voice.

“You mean besides winning the lottery and retiring to Hawaii. How about you losing the attitude and answering a few questions?”

“Don’t say anything,” yelled a voice behind the detectives. Kimberly and Steve turned to Adam Lingenfleter dressed in shorts, an Aloha shirt, and flip flops. “I’m their lawyer and I’m demanding you release them immediately.”

Steve chuckled. “I love it. I love it. You demand we release them. The arresting officer hasn’t finished booking them or filing a report, and you want us to release them. Do you even know what they are charged with?”

“Possession of cocaine,” Adam defiantly answered. “But it was found in the car, not on any individual. You can charge them all with possession, but I’m sure I can get the case thrown out of court. I doubt you had enough probable cause.”

“If we didn’t have probable cause, they wouldn’t be in our detention cell,” Steve replied. “As for getting them off, look at as an opportunity for you to go into court and practice pissing everyone off, including the judge.”

“You can’t intimate me,” Adam yelled. “I know what’s happening. You found a small amount of cocaine and you’re hoping to scare these students into confessing. Well I won’t allow it. You don’t have anything to hold them on.”

Steve held up his hand signaling for Adam to wait. Steve left everyone for a moment. When he returned, he held a copy of an arrest report. “Turns out there was probable cause. They were illegally parked, and the drugs were in plain sight. The four here had their belongings in the car.”

“Doesn’t prove a thing,” Adam shouted. “So they were at the lake, enjoying the afternoon. The car was open. Anyone could have put the drugs in there. Hardly anyone locks their car at the Marina. You have nothing, and you know it. Release them immediately.”

Steve rolled up the arrest report. “What if we don’t? They haven’t even been booked yet.”

“And they shouldn’t,” Adam adamantly replied. “It will be a complete waste of everyone’s time. So don’t even bother. Just release my clients.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Kimberly replied. “All they need to do is tell us where the drugs came from.”

“We aren’t going to tell you anything,” one of the young women shouted. “The car was open and we were just standing next to it. You can’t prove that coke was ours.”

“How many strangers leave drugs in someone else’s car?” Steve stated. “I know I haven’t met any.”

“Maybe someone saw the cops and ditched in our car so they wouldn’t get caught,” one of the young ladies replied. “It wasn’t ours, and you can’t prove it was.”

Kimberly nodded to Steve. “Cut them loose.”

“You sure?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Steve went and got the patrol officer who had brought the detectives down. She opened the detention cell and escorted the four college students to the desk sergeant’s area where they could pick up their belongings. Adam Lingenfleter followed them.

“Is that actually the arrest report?” Kimberly asked Steve, pointing to the paper in his hand.

“Naw, It’s a noise complaint. I figured if that lawyer thought I was holding the arrest report, he might let something slip. Doesn’t matter. Between the lawyer and those kids, it isn’t hard to figure out who sold them the drugs.”

“No kidding,” Kimberly answered. “I wonder what else is happening out at that lake.”

  • * * * * *

Kimberly saw Thom tying up kayaks as she pulled into the marina parking lot. Steve groaned as he stepped out of the car. “Let’s make this quick,” Steve stated. “I don’t want to being working late.”

“Don’t tell me,” Kimberly replied. “You have to pick up take out for dinner tonight.”

Steve stared at Kimberly. “What wrong with wanting to spend with the family. You know, if you had one of your own, you would want to spend more time with them.”

“I do have a family. I have a mother who runs a bridal shop and whose only dream is for me to be a bride. Then there is a sister who can’t wait to be a bride’s maid.”

“Have you given any thought to making their wishes come true.”

“About as much as I do to Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny.”

“Hey, they’re real.”

Kimberly stopped and faced Steve. “Great, in the whole department I get the partner who’s delusional.”

“Some people are just lucky,” Steve replied with a smile.

Thom stopped for a breather when he saw the two detectives approaching. “Afternoon. What can I do for guys?”

“This morning there was a drug bust out here,” Steve said. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“I would think you guys know more about it than me,” Thom answered. “There was a car illegally parked. It was blocking the boat ramp. I asked the people on the dock if they knew whose car it was. No one seemed to know, so I called the cops to see if they could do anything. When they showed up, about twenty minutes later, some kids were hanging out around the car. I figured the cops would tell them to move it, and that’s all. But then they talked to the kids and arrested them. I thought it was bit over the top for an illegally parked car, so I came out to see if I could get the cops to let the kids go. That’s when I found out drugs were involved. After that, I went back to minding my own business.”

“Did you notice any drug use?” Kimberly asked.


“What about someone selling the drugs?”

“Again, no. Look, I know things go on out here. But unless there a danger of someone getting hurt, I find it better to ignore it. Besides, most of the time it’s underage kids drinking or smoking pot. No big deal.”

“You’re wrong,” Steve stated. “Anyone driving a boat while drunk or stoned is a danger to others. Not only that, they are a danger to themselves. We’ve dealt with too many drowning out here where the victim was under the influence of drugs or alcohol and they failed to realize their limits when swimming or boating.”

“Then there is the issue of selling alcohol to minors,” Kimberly added.

“Hey, I don’t do that,” Thom shouted. “Yes, I do sell beer to up at the shop. But I sell it only to adults, fishermen who come out to lake, and I’ve known most of them my entire life. They aren’t the ones you need to watch out for. These kids are probably raiding their parents refrigerator. As for the drugs, I have no idea where they are getting them.”

Kimberly crossed her arms. “Okay, let’s say you have nothing to do with what’s going on out here. But surely you must have noticed some strange things. Things that don’t make sense. Things that make you wonder what is going on.”

Thom gave Kimberly a confused look. “What do you mean?”

“Anything unusual happen? Anything that you can’t explain?”

Thom cleared his throat and wiped his hands on his jeans. He looked around to see if anyone was watching. It was just him and the two detectives. “Well, I have noticed sometimes there’s a boat not properly tied down.”

“Why is that unusual?”

“Because I make sure they’re all properly tied down before I go home. I think maybe someone is taking a boat out after hours.”

“How is a boat not properly tied down?” Kimberly asked.

Thom motioned for the detectives to follow him out on the dock. Once there, he knelt down and pointed to rope tying the boat to the dock. “I use a special kind of knot for tying down the boats. Notice how I loop the rope around the cleat before looping it over each of the horns of the cleat. When I would come out sometimes, I would find a boat with the rope looped over the horns, but not wrapped around the cleat.”

“How often does that happen?” Kimberly asked.

Thom shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. Not often. I’ve only noticed it a couple of times.”

Steve knelt down to take a closer look at the rope securing the boat. “One of those times wouldn’t be the day after Raymond Carlsen was killed, would it?”

“Now that you mention it, yeah.”

Steve looked at Thom. “Did you tell anyone about it?”

“No. No one asked.”

  • * * * * *

Justin put his briefcase on the table next to the metal detector and placed the contents of his pockets in a plastic container. The patrol officer motioned for Justin to come through. He then looked inside the briefcase, ensuring there were no weapons and quickly checked the contents of the plastic container. The patrol officer returned Justin’s belongings to him.

Justin picked up his briefcase and replaced the items in his pockets before approaching the desk sergeant. “Is Detective Simmons in? I would like to talk to her.”

The desk sergeant picked up his phone and dialed the detective division. After a brief conversation, he hung up. “Sorry, but looks like Detective Simmons is gone for the day.”

“What?” Justin exclaimed. “It’s not even four o’clock. Does she usually take off this early?”

“Wouldn’t know,” the desk sergeant replied. “Don’t keep track of the detectives.”

“So you have no idea where she is.”

“Not really,” the desk sergeant answered. “But I do know that her and Detective Tindall went out to the marina earlier. She might still be there.”

“Why did they go out to the marina?”

“Probably had something to do with the drug bust that took place this morning. It happened out at the marina.”

“What can you tell me about the bust?’

“It happened at the marina. And that’s all I’m going to tell you.”

  • * * * * *

Chapter Twenty-One

Justin began his daily search for food, like the ancient hunters and gatherers of old. However instead of hunting for game and edible plants, his search was limited to supermarkets, fast food restaurants, and delis. Tonight’s quest led him to Dannie’s Deli. He was pleasantly surprised to find Kimberly there.

“Great minds think alike,” Justin said as he approached the counter.

Kimberly turned to face Justin. “That’s true. However I’m still waiting for that great mind to show up. So what are you doing here?”

“You’re still upset over what I said last time. Look, you have to understand. . .”

“What!, I’m incapable of understanding. First I’m an incompetent detective, and now I can’t understand what is going on?”

“No, no,” Justin answered. “What I mean is I have to explore every lead, anything that might clear Mike. You know, as well as I do, that Mike is innocent.”

“No, I don’t,” Kimberly shouted, startling everyone in the place. She lowered her voice and took a step toward Justin. “What I know is your client is going on trial for murder.”

“He’s innocent.”

“So you say.” Kimberly folded her arms. “Listen, I think it’s great that you believe your client is innocent. It means you’ll give him the best defense possible.”

“Then maybe you’ll help me out. I heard there was a drug bust out at the lake today.”

“There was. It has nothing to do with the homicides that took place out there.”

“How do you know?” Justin demanded. “I need to know everything that goes on at the lake. You never know when something could be linked to the murders.”

“Well, in that case, I should tell we’ve had a couple complaints about stray dogs at the marina. Do you think they could have killed our two victims?”

Justin sighed. “Hey, I’m sorry about what I said about you and the police force. I’m just trying to get to the truth.”

“So are we,” Kimberly replied. “And for your information, Steve and I have been taking another look at what happened at the lake.”


“Don’t thank me. I’m just doing my job.”

“Okay, okay,” Justin responded. “Is there any way I can get you to see we are on the same side. We both want the same thing, to find the killer and see justice done.”

“I’m open to suggestions.”

“I have one,” Dannie, the deli owner said as she brought out Kimberly’s dinner order. She handed Kimberly her dinner in a to-go container. Dannie turned to face Justin. “Why don’t you take her out to dinner?”

“You mean a date?” Kimberly exclaimed. “We tried that once; it didn’t work out.”

“Hey, I never try a recipe just once,” Dannie said. “You never know when it will work out the second time.”

“What about it?” Justin pleaded. “It can’t hurt. It’s just dinner. How about tomorrow night?”

Kimberly glared at Justin. “Fine. You can pick me up at seven. But it’s not a date.” Kimberly stormed out of the deli.

Justin turned to Dannie to give her his order. She held up her hand. “Don’t care what she says; I recommend you bring flowers.”

  • * * * * *

Justin was careful not to spill his morning coffee as he got out of his car. The morning air was warm, not surprising for summer. Sunlight reflected off the water, inviting swimmers, boaters, and fishermen alike. Justin walked down to the dock where Thom was gassing up a boat for a group of fishermen who were gathering their poles and equipment from two pickup trucks.

“How’s it going?” Justin asked, taking a sip of his coffee from a travel mug with an Army decal on it.

Thom finished gassing the boat and replace the nozzle on the gas pump. “Well it’s early, but I think it’ll be a good day. I have one group going out now and I expect another two later this morning. What can I do for you?”

“Heard there was a drug bust here yesterday.”

“Yeah, there was. Why? Are you their lawyer?”

“Can’t discuss my clients,” Justin answered. “What can you tell me about what happened?”

“Not much. Like I told the detectives yesterday, there was a car blocking the boat ramp. I asked around and no one claimed it was their car. I called the cops to see if they could do anything. A patrol unit came out, found some drugs, and took four kids into custody.”

“Kids? They were kids?”

“All right, college students. I thought you knew that. Aren’t they your clients?”

Justin took another sip of coffee. “Like I said, I can’t discuss anything about my clients.”

“In other words, they aren’t.” Thom chuckled.

“Does it matter?”

“Not to me. So, what do you want?”

“Just need to know what you told the detectives. I’m checking to see if this drug bust has anything to do with the two murders that took place out here?”

“Doubt it. It was just some kids with a bag of dope. At least, that’s what I was told.”

“Did the detective do anything else? Check for more drugs, search the area, question other witnesses?”

“Nah. They talked to me and that’s it. But they did ask about the boats.”

“What about the boats?’

Thom motioned for Justin to examine the tow line connecting the boat to the dock. “You see this cleat. I tie the boats to the dock by wrapping the tow line around the cleat before looping it over the horns. A couple of times, I found the tow line secured to the cleat differently than what I usually do. The detectives found that interesting, especially since one of times I discovered it was the morning after Carlsen was killed.”

“How often has this happened?”

Thom shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. At least a couple of times. I just began to notice it. Although it did happen again last night.”

Justin climbed into the boat and looked around. “Doesn’t it need a key to start the engine? I can’t see someone trying to paddle this boat around the lake.”

“Yes, it does. And before you ask, I have all the keys. None are missing.”

“Is it always the same boat?”

“Now that you mention it, yeah.”

“How often is this boat cleaned?”

“Every time it comes back from being rented. Between the spilled beer and the dead fish, fishermen make a real mess each time it goes out.”

How many keys are there to this boat?

“Two,” Thom replied, “and both of them are up in my possession.”

  • * * * * *

A large white board greeted Justin as he entered his office. On the other side, hidden from view was Wendy.

“What’s with the new office furniture?” Justin asked as he maneuvered around the large, white obstruction.

Wendy held up several pieces of paper in her left hand and a marker in her right. “I’m making a time line of Raymond Carlsen’s activities the night he was killed.”

“Okay. What do you have so far?”

Wendy waved her hand to what she had written on the board. “We know that Raymond Carlsen left Nicole Welsh’s law office at four p.m. According to the coroner’s report, Raymond had a dinner of a hamburger with the works and French fries. Since there were no wrappers found in his car, I’m assuming he stopped at some fast food place and ate there. I figure he made it to the lake around four forty-five at the earliest, but more probably around five. The call for the police to check out a body, which turned out to be the victim, was made at about nine thirty. Again, the coroner stated Raymond was dead less than hour before the body was discovered. That leaves four and half hours unaccounted for.”

“Okay. So what did he do during that time?”

“What I’m focusing on is what the killer did.”

Justin signaled for Wendy to continue.

“During that four and half hours, someone killed Raymond, dumped his car in the lake, placed Raymond’s wallet and phone at Mike’s campsite, and dumped the body in the lake at least a mile from the marina.”

“You can add breaking and enter Thom store at the marina, steal a boat, return it, and break into the store again; all without leaving a trace of a crime.”

“I’m not interested in night fishermen,” Wendy replied.

“No, that’s not it. There’s a possibility someone took and used a boat from the marina.”

“What’s with the breaking in Thom’s store?”

“They had a key to boat,” Justin answered. “They need a key to start the engine of the boat.”

“How do you know someone took a boat from the marina?”

“Thom told me. He says he’s noticed that someone has been using a boat from the marina. The night Carlsen was killed wasn’t the first time either, so I figure that person has way to get into the store whenever he wants.”

Wendy placed the papers in her hand on her desk and faced Justin. “Unless he made a copy of the key.”

  • * * * * *

Dressed in Chinos, a blue Polo shirt, and blue blazer; Justin cleared his throat and twirled the small bouquet of flowers he held. He took another deep breath before pressing the doorbell. He heard it chime and took a step back, placing the flowers behind his back, out of sight. Justin noticed his palms started sweating while waiting for Kimberly to come to her door.

Kimberly opened the door. Dressed in dark slacks, a flower-print blouse, a black leather jacket; she leaned against the door jam. “Good, you’re on time. I’m ready if you are.”

Justin hesitantly held up the flowers. “The woman at the deli suggested I bring flowers. I hope you like them.”

Kimberly stood upright and took the flowers. “I don’t know any woman who doesn’t like flowers, especially from a gentlemen caller. Come in while I put these in some water.”

Justin followed Kimberly into the living room. He waited as Kimberly went into the kitchen and put the flowers in a plastic glass filled with water. “How’s your case coming along?” she yelled from the kitchen.”


“Your case,” Kimberly repeated, entering the living room. “How is your case coming along?”

“If you mean Mike Richards’ defense, we’re making progress.”


“Well, we’ve figured that it was about four and half hours between when Raymond Carlsen arrived at the lake and when his body was discovered. During that time, the killer murdered Raymond, dumped his car in the lake, placed evidence at Mike’s campsite, stole a boat and dumped the body a mile away. It’s an awful lot for one person to do in such a limited amount of time.”

“Not really,” Kimberly replied. “Mike could have met Raymond at his campsite, killed him there, and took his wallet and cell phone. Then he carried the body to the marina, where he dumped the car and stole a boat to dump the body in the lake. He could have easily done all that in four and half hours.”

“That’s true,” Justin acknowledged. “But it doesn’t answer one question. Why would he go back to where the body was?”

  • * * * * *

Chapter Twenty-Two

Charlisa watched Dale as he entered the coffee shop. Wearing dress slacks, a white shirt, and a blue tie; he was the perfect image of an intern working at a law firm. He even had the backpack full of books and personal items. He stared at Charlisa before going over to the counter and ordering a large coffee to go. He glanced back at Charlisa twice while waiting for his order. When it was ready, he picked it up and walked over to where Charlisa was sitting.

“Please, have a seat,” Charlisa said. hoping Dale would become less hostile.

“No, thanks,” he responded. “I really don’t have much time before I have to get to work. So, what do you want?”

Charlisa took a sip from her coffee, taking her time to return the cup to the table. “I know you and Raymond were working for Nicole Welsh, and that one of you would be offered a position with her firm. I’m sure because of Raymond’s father, it would have been him. Now that he’s gone, you’re a shoe-in for the position.”

“And you think I killed Raymond.”

“No. Even if you didn’t get a job with Nicole Welsh, I’m sure you would have found a job elsewhere. There are lots of firms looking for fresh blood.”

“Then why did you want to talk to me?”

“I think something Raymond was working on got him killed. I want to know what it was.”

Dale chuckled. ‘Raymond and I were interns. We did grunt work. You know; make copies, look up cases, take lunch orders. The most exciting thing we did at the office was attend the morning meetings where everyone talks about what they are working on. And because of client confidentiality, I can’t tell you anything except that we weren’t working on anything that would cause anyone to kill anybody. That psycho killed Raymond. Who knows why.”

“Possibly. But it doesn’t answer the question of why Raymond was out at the lake. Why was he there?”

Dale leaned forward. “Why do you think? He was there to see someone. That’s why he dumped you.”

Charlisa smiled and leaned forward to show she wasn’t shocked. “I know that. But I want to know who. Who was she?”

“I can’t tell you.” Before Charlisa could say anything more, Dale turned and left.

  • * * * * *

“Good morning,” Justin said as he entered his office.

“Good morning,” a voice hidden by the white board serving as a barrier to all who entered the office.

Justin stepped around the white board to find Wendy at her desk going over files on her computer. “I was thinking about what you said yesterday,” he said. “You brought up several interesting points.”

“Really,” Wendy replied. “Here it is a day later, and now you think what I did yesterday was good. We’re going to trial tomorrow. You’ll need to be quicker on your feet if you hope to get our client acquitted.”

Justin drew a line on the white board and started writing. “There are several questions that we need to find answers to.”

Wendy clasped her hands and placed them on her desk. “Please continue counselor.”

Justin started writing on the white board. “One, exactly when was Paul Campbell killed? He’s a second victim; but was he killed the same night as Raymond Carlsen?”


“Second, how did Paul Campbell get out to the lake? We found Raymond Carlsen’s car. But where is Paul’s? He must have drove out there; so where is his car?”

“Maybe it’s in the lake like Raymond’s. The police looked for Raymond’s car, but they didn’t look for Paul’s”

“Possible,” Justin answered. “But if Paul was killed the same night as Raymond, then wouldn’t the car be close to where they found Raymond’s? The police wouldn’t have missed it if it was.”

“Not necessarily. They weren’t looking for a second car. I imagine it’s kind of dark down there. It’s not like looking in a pool where you can see the bottom. Every lake I’ve been to, you can’t see more than a foot or two in front of your face.”

“I’ve already asked the police to check to see if they can find Paul’s car in the lake. But, if it isn’t there, where is it?”

“Good question.”

“Then,” Justin said for emphasis. “What is the motive for killing Paul? The DA thinks Mike killed Raymond in a fit of anger. But why kill Paul? Mike wasn’t angry with him.”


“There is also the question of why take Raymond’s wallet and cell phone? Why not just throw them into the lake? Why keep them?”

“Which leads to the question where is Paul’s wallet and cell phone? We’re assuming they are at the bottom of the lake.”

“Exactly,” Justin exclaimed. “You see where I’m going with this. If we can answer these questions, we can get Mike acquitted.”

“You missed one very important question.”

“What’s that?” Justin asked.

“Just who did kill Raymond and Paul?” Wendy answered.

  • * * * * *

Adam Lingenfleter and Bradner Hansen were sitting on the back porch of Adam’s home. each had a beer in his hand as they looked out over the lake.

“I’m worried about what happened at the marina,” Bradner said as he toyed with his beer.

“Relax. It was just a bunch of kids caught with a small amount of dope,” Adam replied. “The cops found it outside of their car, so they can’t tie it to anyone. We’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Any time the cops are out here, I’m worried. Maybe we should stop operations until after the trial and Wild Mike is sentenced. The police and that damn lawyer won’t be poking around here.”

“Nonsense. The police aren’t a concern. As for that lawyer, he’s a public defender. The trail will keep him busy. He won’t have enough time to cause us any trouble.”

“Do you think the DA can get a conviction?” Bradner asked. “If not, that homeless bum will be back out here, and he won’t stop looking for whoever killed those kids.”

Adam chuckled. “One of those kids was Phillip Carlsen’s son. Our kiss-ass DA will do everything he can to get a conviction and suck up to the state senator. The DA has means, motive, and opportunity. A clown can get a conviction.”

“Well, I would agree if I didn’t know that it wasn’t Wild Mike who killed those kids.”

  • * * * * *

Chapter Twenty-Three

The campus coffee shop, Ivy Tower, was a busy place, which didn’t surprise Justin. There were several dozen students seated at the tables spread throughout the shop. Several more students occupied chairs at the counter along the window, giving them a view of the lawn and trees outside, as well as the squirrels and birds. Justin noticed was it seemed all the students were looking at their computers or cell phones. Hardly anyone was talking to another person, even when seated at the same table. Justin noted several male students followed Denise’s movements when she entered the coffee shop. Dressed in blue jeans, a tee shirt tucked in to accent her figure, and with her hair pulled back in a pony tail; she managed to look casual and sensual at the same time. She was carrying a backpack and a paper cup filled with coffee. Justin waited until Denise sat down before he got up and approached her.

“Good morning,” Justin said as he pulled out a chair and sat down across from her.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Denise replied sarcastically.

“Thanks, I will. I hope you don’t mind, but I would like to ask you a few questions.”

“You’re one of the lawyers I talked to the other day, aren’t you?”

“That’s right. I was hoping you could tell me more about what your boyfriend was doing out at the lake.”

“It’s like I told you the other day. Paul was out there trying to find out why the fish were dying. He suspected someone was poisoning the lake.”

“Yes, I understand that. But why was he out there at night? Wouldn’t it be better to do the research in the daytime? I would think it would be easier for him to find evidence of illegal dumping in daylight than at night.”

Denise took a deep breath. Justin could tell she was gathering her thoughts before answering. “I honestly don’t know why he would go out at night. Maybe Professor Kokolowski would know. I just know I talked to Paul that day. He went out, and that’s the last I saw of him.”

“Do you know if anyone went out with him?”

“No. I figured he went by himself.”

“What kind of car did your boyfriend drive?”

Paul; his name was Paul. He drove a 2014 gray Ford hatchback. I don’t know the model, but it wasn’t very big. I think he got it because it had great gas mileage.”

“Did the police ever find his car?”

“I don’t know,” Denise answered with frustration. “You need to ask them. All I know is Paul is dead, and the person you are defending killed him.”

Justin tapped the table with his fingers. He took a deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry if I upset you. I’m just trying to find out why someone would want to kill your…Paul. Somehow I don’t think he was killed because of some dead fish.”

Denise crossed her arms. “In that case, you really should talk to Professor Kokolowski. He would know more about what Paul was doing out there.”

Justin stood up. “I will. Thank you for your time.”

  • * * * * *

Finding Professor Kokolowski wasn’t hard. As Justin entered the professor’s office, he got the impression the professor spent most of his time there. There were the required bookcases with dozens of books, mostly for reference. On two shelves were stacks of papers. In one corner was a small refrigerator with a microwave on top. Next to the refrigerator was a small table with an electric hot water bottle, boxes of tea, a few plastic plates and a cup holding several pieces of metal flatware. Along one wall was an old, cloth-covered couch with a depression in the center cushion. A blanket and a pillow laid at one end of the couch. Justin was sure the professor took naps on it quite often.

“Well, this is a surprise,” Professor Kokolowski said looking up from his computer at Justin. “What brings you here?”

“I’m trying to find out more about what Paul Campbell was doing out at the lake the night he was killed.”

“I’m sorry, but I really don’t know. I assumed he was trying to find out what was killing the fish out there. He suspected someone poisoning the lake.”

Justin sat down on the cloth-covered couch. “That doesn’t make much sense. That lake is a major attraction in the area. Certainly people would notice if something was going on out there. And I sincerely doubt they would tolerate it. Poisoning the lake is like a restaurant being closed for health violations. It ruins business.”

“Well I agree with you,” Kokolowski replied. “It would be bad business and foolish to poison the lake. But the fish out there are dying and people are beginning to notice.”

“When did this start? How long has it been going on?”

“I really don’t know. I don’t fish or own a boat, so I rarely go out to the lake. In fact, the only times I’ve been there is with Paul.”

“So you have no idea how long it’s been going on.”

“No, not really. I think it’s fairly recently, because one of the other professors here goes fishing out there quite often. Last year, he caught a lot of fish. He even had a barbecue party where he cooked up a lot of them. But this year, he’s complained about the poor fishing out there and how he has to go upstate to catch anything good.”

“When was the last time you talked to Paul?”

“It was the day he was killed. I talked to him just before he went out the lake that night.”

“Why would he go out there at night?” Justin asked. “It seems like he would have better luck finding out what was killing the fish in the daytime.”

“I really wouldn’t know. I agree he shouldn’t have gone out there that night. I even told him so.”

“One last question. Do you know what kind of car Paul drove?”

“No, not really. It was some kind of small gray car; a Ford, I think.”

“Wouldn’t know what happened to it?”

Kokolowski stared at Justin. “Why would I know what happened to his car? It’s probably in some parking lot somewhere.”

  • * * * * *

From behind his desk, Connor Arnott took careful note of Nicole seated in a chair across from him. She was dressed in a black skirt with matching high heels, a dark, flower-print blouse accented by dark earrings.

“What do you want?” Nicole asked as she smooth her skirt. She didn’t like being called into the district attorney’s office.

“The trial starts tomorrow,” Connor stated. “I want to make sure I have all my duck in a row. I don’t want any surprises in court.”

“You’re in the wrong profession. There are always surprises in court.”

“Just tell me why Raymond Carlsen was coming up to your house the night he was murdered?”

“I don’t know.”

Connor chuckled. “Don’t give me that crap. I know he was coming up to see you. I need to know why. Was it professional, or personal?”

“It never happened,” Nicole replied. “He never came to my house that night.”

“But he was supposed to.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Fine,” Connor said with frustration. “Just know this. While I won’t be asking you questions about your relationship with Carlsen, you can bet the defense attorney will. And he won’t accept your ‘I don’t know’ attitude.”

“Again, Raymond never came to the house that night.”

“Well you better be prepared to answer why Raymond was up at the lake that night. It’s going to come up at trial.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m a lawyer. I’ve been court dozens of times. I know exactly what to say.”

“What’s important is what you don’t say. Remember that.”

  • * * * * *

Chapter Twenty-Four

“All Rise. Court is in session. The Honorable Judge Gwen Whitlock presiding.”

“Be seated,” Judge Whitlock said as she took her place on the bench. She took a moment to adjust her robes and turn on her computer. She looked out at the courtroom. “I’m pleased we were able to get through jury selection in just one day. I hope the prosecution is ready to proceed.”

“Yes, we are.” Connor Arnott answered.

The judge looked to Justin. “What about the defense?”

“We are, your honor.”

The judge pointed to the defendant. Dressed in dark blue blazer and gray slacks, Mike raised his eyes to acknowledge the judge’s attention. “Will the defendant, Mike Richards, please rise and enter a plea.”

Justin motioned to Mike. He stood up and stated in a loud voice, “Not guilty.”

“The court will record the plea,” Judge Whitlock acknowledged. “We will begin with opening arguments. Mr. Arnott, are you ready?”

“Yes, your honor,” Connor answered as he stood up and approached the jury. “We are here today to get justice for Raymond Carlsen, a young man with a promising future that was cut short when an uncontrolled madman, Mike Richards, murdered Raymond in a fit of anger. Now, the defense will tell you about Richards’ military service, That he is a war hero. He is suffering from PTSD and not responsible for his actions. Yes, Richards did honorably serve in the Marine Corps. But that does not permit him to brutalize and terrorize peaceful citizens of this community. We will show that Mike Richards met the victim, Raymond Carlsen, at the lake and beat him to death over a senseless argument. We will present evidence, found in the defendant’s possession, proving he killed Raymond Carlsen. We will also show he killed another defenseless man, Paul Campbell, again for no reason.” Connor pointed to Mike. “This man is a danger to the community and out of control. The only way to provide safety for all of us is to put him in prison, where he belongs. After we present the evidence today, you will have no choice but to find him guilty.” Connor tugged on his charcoal grey suit jacket before taking his seat.

Justin stood up, took a couple of breaths, placed his hand on Mike’s shoulder. Justin faced the jury. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. The prosecutor will have you believe Mike Richards is ‘an uncontrolled madman’ to use his own words. He would have you believe Mike killed two people because he lost his temper; two people who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Yet he was so in control of his resources, he surrendered to the police without incident. He had no reason to kill them. Mike Richards does have problems, anger issues. But no matter what the prosecutor says, he will not be able to prove Mike Richards killed those young men, because Mike Richards is innocent. He did not kill Raymond Carlsen or Paul Campbell.” Justin took his seat.

Connor called the coroner as his first witness. “Please explain to the jury the cause of death,” Connor stated, staring at the jury.

The coroner, Dr. Riley Merlin, was a man in his forties, trim from being an avid runner.  While he gave the appearance of a casual attitude; dressed in a white turtleneck, brown jacket and blue jeans; he was an experienced professional who knew jury members preferred plain language instead of medical terms. He turned to face the jury. “Simply put, both young men died from massive bleeding in the brain. They were beaten with a blunt object. There were signs of trauma to the upper body as well as defensive wounds on their arms. Based on trace evidence collected during the autopsy, it was determined the murder weapon was some kind of slender, metal, cylindrical object similar to a tire iron.”

“So both victims were beaten with the same murder weapon,” Connor stated.

“Objection,” Justin yelled, “the prosecution is testifying.”

“Sustained,” the judge acknowledge.

“I’ll rephrase,” Connor hurriedly interjected. “Were both victim killed by the same weapon?”

“It’s quite possible,” Dr. Merlin answered. “The wounds were similar and the cause of death was the same in both cases.”

“That’s all I have for this witness,” Connor said with satisfaction.

Judge Whitlock looked at Justin. “Does the defense wish to cross examine?”

“Yes, your honor,” Justin said as he stood up. “Doctor Merlin, could you tell us if the murder weapon was recovered?”

“As far as I know, it was not.”

“So it’s possible two different weapons were used?”

“Yes, it’s possible. But they would have to be the same kind of metal object.”

“Yes, I understand. Can you tell us the time of death of the victims?”

“Well, for Raymond Carlsen, death occurred between seven and nine o’clock the night he was found. As for Paul Campbell, I can only estimate death occurred within six to eight days from when his body was recovered.”

“Why is that?” Justin asked.

“The body had been in the water for several days before we recovered it,” Dr. Merlin replied.

“So, it’s possible these two people were killed on different days? In fact, it’s possible Paul Campbell was killed the day after Raymond Carlsen.”

“Those are possibilities.”

“Thank you doctor,” said Justin

“Wish to redirect,” Connor said as soon as Justin sat down. The judge motioned for Connor to continue.

Connor faced the jury. “Doctor. During your autopsies, did you find anything different in these two murders? Anything that would lead you to believe they were killed by two different killers?”

The coroner took a deep breath. “No. Nothing.”

  • * * * * *

Detective Kimberly Simmons settled into the witness chair after being sworn in. Conner Arnott smiled as he stood up.

“Tell us in your own words, what happened the night Raymond Carlsen was murdered,” Connor said with a great deal of confidence.

“Objection,” Justin shouted. “The witness can only tell what she did that night, not what happened.”

“Sustained,” Judge Whitlock stated.

“I’ll rephrase the question,” Connor replied. “Detective, can you tell us what actions you took on the night in question?”

Kimberly looked at Justin before answering. “Yes. The department got a call about a person with a body at around nine p.m. I was in the office. When I heard a patrol unit being dispatched to the scene, I called my partner, Detective Steve Tindall, and I went out to meet up with the patrol unit. On the way out there, I heard over the radio, the patrol unit had found a body by the lake. They were pursuing a suspect on foot, heading toward High Road. I drove to a boat house below High Road, thinking that the suspect would try to go there to get a boat and escape on the lake. Turns out I was right. After about ten minutes, the suspect, Mike Richards, showed up and I arrested him.”

“Then what happened?” Connor asked.

Kimberly took a deep breath before continuing. “I turned Mike over to a patrol unit and met up with my partner, Steve, who was processing the crime scene where we found the body of Raymond Carlsen. Knowing that Mike has set up a campsite in the woods by the lake, I got a search warrant to go through his things. I didn’t want to lose this case on a technicality. The next morning, when it was light, we went out to Mike’s campsite and searched it. We found the victim’s wallet and cell phone there.”

“Did you find any other evidence connecting the defendant to the victim,” Conner asked with renewed confidence.

“Yes. At the scene where the body was discovered, we found Mike’s hat and his binoculars. Also, at the police station, Mike’s clothing was collected. Lab tests showed the blood we found on his clothes belonged to Raymond Carlsen.”

“No further question,” Connor stated with apparent satisfaction.

Judge Whitlock made a few notes before signaling to Justin he could cross examine. Justin stood up, straightened his jacket, and placed his hand on Mike’s shoulder.

“Detective Simmons,” Justin began, “Thank you for your recount of the events. Can you tell the court if my client resisted arrest?”

“No, he didn’t.”

“In fact, he was quite cooperative, wasn’t he?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Now, let’s get back to the evidence you found,” Justin stated. “The defendant stated. . .”

“Objection,” Connor yelled. “The defense attorney is referring to evidence that has not been introduced to the court, and it’s hearsay.”

“Sustained,” Judge Whitlock replied. “Counselor, please rephrase your question.”

“Of course, your honor,” Justin said as he turned back to face Kimberly. “Detective, when you arrested my client, Mike Richards, were his clothes wet?”

“Yes, they were.”

“Do you know why they were wet?”

“Mike said he had gone in to pull Raymond Carlsen’s body out the lake.”

“Objection,” Connor shouted, “hearsay.”

“In this case, I’ll allow it,” the judge ruled.

“Did that seems possible to you?” Justin asked

Objection,” Connor shouted.

Justin held up his hand. “I’ll withdraw the question.” Justin again turned to face Kimberly. “Let me ask about the blood you found on Mike’s clothing. Exactly where was the blood?”

Kimberly put her hand on her right shoulder. “Most of it was on the shoulder of his shirt and some was down the back of the shirt.”

“Isn’t it strange that in a fight, the victim’s blood is on the back of the attacker and not on the front?”

“Objection,” yelled Connor. “This is calling for speculation on the part of the witness.”

“Your honor,” Justin interjected. “Detective Simmons is a police officer with years of experience. She’s certainly qualified to give an opinion on blood patterns.”

Judge Whitlock leaned forward, making a tent with her fingers. She tapped her mouth several times before leaning back. “I’ll sustain the prosecutor’s objection simply because it’s so easy for the defense to reframe the question.”

Justin nodded agreement with the judge. “Detective Simmons, how long have you been a police officer?”

“Between my time with LAPD and here, more than ten years.”

“And during that time, you’ve dealt with quite a few assault cases, haven’t you?’’


“Could you give us an idea of how many? Was it a dozen? Was it more?”

“I honestly don’t know. I didn’t count them. But I can say more than a hundred cases.”

“With all those cases, you’ve seen a lot of blood patterns, on both the victims and attacker, haven’t you?”


“In all your experience, have you ever seen a case where the victim’s blood is on the back of the attacker’s clothes, but not on the front?”

“With the exception of this case, I can’t recall any specific cases.”

Justin smiled. “Let’s talk about something else. Did the department recover Raymond Carlsen’s car?”

“Yes, we did.”

“Could you explain how?”

“We found it in the lake, by the pier at the marina,” Kimberly stated.

“There was a second victim found out at the lake, wasn’t there?”

“Yes, about a week later we recovered the body of Paul Campbell.”

“According to the coroner, Paul was killed the same way as Raymond Carlsen.”


“That’s not a question,” Justin added. “Just stating a fact. My question is did the police ever recover Paul Campbell’s car?’

“No, we didn’t.”

“Wasn’t it in the lake with Raymond Carlsen’s car?”

“No, it wasn’t. And before you ask, yes, we looked.”

“You looked in the lake, or you looked for Paul’s car?”

“We looked in the lake,” Kimberly answered.

“So let me get this correct. You looked in the lake. You found Raymond Carlsen’s car, but you didn’t find Paul Campbell’s car. In fact, the police still haven’t found Paul Campbell’s car. Isn’t that correct?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Thank you Detective Simmons. No further questions.”

Kimberly was relieved when Connor didn’t redirect, but she still stormed out of the courtroom, extremely angry at Justin.

  • * * * * *

Chapter Twenty-Five

Kimberly’s partner, Steve Tindall, remained seated at his desk as Kimberly stormed into the office and made a beeline for the filing cabinet. She yanked the drawer open and started rifling through the file.

“What are looking for?” Steve asked.

“The file on the Campbell homicide. I’m reopening the investigation.”

“Of course you are,” Steve acknowledged. “I was in court and saw what the defense attorney did to you.”

Kimberly slammed the drawer shut. “No, that’s not it.” Steve had a hard time believing her.

“There are too many questions and too many things don’t add up,” Kimberly added. “I think we should reopen the case and take another look at the evidence. It might also help us with the Carlsen homicide. Now, do you know where the Campbell file is?”

Steve smirked. “Yeah, right.” He grab a folder from his desk. “It’s right here.”

“What are you doing with it?”

“The same thing you want to do. I agree. There are too many things that just don’t seem right. I’m not saying Wild Mike is innocent, but it doesn’t make sense for him to kill two college kids for no reason. Wild Mike has lost his temper before, but he has never really hurt anyone. I mean, he’s given them a bloody nose or a black eye. But no one has had to go to the ER. And, he has always walked away after giving the victim one or two punches. He has never beaten anyone. And, Wild Mike doesn’t have any real motive.”

Kimberly remained standing next to the file cabinet. “So you reopened it.”

“Never closed it.”

“I take it you find some leads we need to follow.”

“I found some things that don’t make sense, some things I think we to check out.”

Kimberly walked over and took the file from Steve. “I’ll make a copy for the defense attorney, just in case the DA forgot to send something over.”

Steve picked up a second file folder. “Already have.”

Kimberly took the second folder from Steve. “Well, don’t sit there. We’ve got work to do.”

Steve picked up his cell phone. “Better call the wife. I have a feeling I’m going to be missing dinner for the next few days.”

  • * * * * *

“Can you believe it?” Steve said as he pulled the unmarked police car into a parking spot. “I’ve been a police officer for more than twenty years, it never occurred to me to look for Paul Campbell’s car. He’s the victim of a homicide and I completely ignore looking for his car. I checked his dorm room, his work station at the university, even checked to see when he visited his parents last. But when it came to his car, complete brain fart.”

Kimberly got out of the passenger side as Steve turned off the motor and got out. “You’re not alone. I forgot about looking for his car too. I guess we just figured whoever killed him, drove the body out to the lake and dumped it. It wasn’t until we got the coroner’s report that we found similarities between Campbell’s and Carlsen’s homicides.”

Steve stood behind a burnt orange four-door sedan. “Here’s Campbell’s car. A 2010 Pontiac. Hiding in plain sight in a college parking lot.”

Kimberly walked around the car, checking the license plate and the VIN number visible in the windshield. “The numbers match. It’s his car all right.”

“Here’s another clue we missed,” Steve added, looking at the file on Paul Campbell’s death. “Among his personal effects, there were no keys. No house keys, no dorm keys, no car keys. We should have picked up on it. Who leaves their home without any keys?”

“Well, let’s get it towed to the impound lot and have forensics go over it. Maybe we’ll find something.”

“But we already have,” Steve said jokingly. “We found his car.”

Kimberly glared at Steve. “There are times when you be really annoying.”

  • * * * * *

“Good morning Officer Davis,” Connor said after Davis had been sworn in and taken his place on the witness stand. “In your own words, please tell us what happened the night Raymond Carlsen was murdered. Exactly what did you and your partner do?”

Davis cleared his throat. “Well, a little before nine, my partner, Homer Rucker, and myself were dispatched to the lake because of a report of a body on the beach about two miles west of the marina. Officer Rucker drove us to the place and we got out to investigate. That’s when we saw the defendant, Mike Richards, with the victim, Raymond Carlsen’s body. Homer, I mean Officer Rucker yelled for the defendant to freeze, but he took off running. I quickly checked and confirmed the victim was dead. There was no pulse. So we took off chasing the defendant. we lost him in the woods. After about twenty minutes, we got a call saying Detective Simmons had arrested the defendant. We picked him up and booked him.”

“Excellent,” Connor commented. “Tell us about the next day, the day you and the detectives searched the defendant’s camp.”

Again, Davis cleared his throat. “Well, the detectives got a warrant to search Mike’s, I mean the defendant’s campsite. We got there around ten in the morning. There wasn’t much to search, so it didn’t take us very long. But we did find the victim’s, Raymond Carlsen’s wallet and cell phone at the campsite.”

“Was there anything else?”

“Well, there was Mike’s, I mean the defendant’s, hat and binoculars that were found with the victim’s body.”

“No further questions,” Connor said smugly.

Judge Whitlock motioned for Justin to cross-examine.

Justin stood up and faced Officer Davis. “You seem a bit nervous. Is this your first time testifying in court Officer Davis?”

“Yes, it is.”

Justin smiled. “Well you have nothing to worry about. I’m just going to ask you a few questions. I’m sure you will do fine.”

“Thank you,” David replied.

“No problem,” Justin responded. “Could you please describe the person you saw with the body of Raymond Carlsen on the night in question?”

“Well, it was the defendant,” Davis answered.

“Did you actually see the defendant? Or did you just see someone running away?”

Davis swallowed. “I really didn’t see much. I was calling in our location when my partner, Officer Rucker yelled for the suspect, I mean defendant, to freeze. But I did see him run into the woods around the lake.”

“You saw Mike Richards, or you saw a person, run into the woods?”

“I saw someone.”

“But can you positively identify that person as Mike Richards?”

“No,” Davis replied sheepishly.

“Let us move onto the search of Mike Richards’ campsite. Where did you find the victim’s wallet and cell phone?”

“It was in the bedroll at the campsite. Actually, it was hidden in the pillow inside of the bedroll.”

“Who actually found the wallet and cell phone?”

“I did.”

“Can you tell us what prompted you to search the pillow and bedroll?”

“Objection,” Connor shouted. “It’s already been established the officers had a search warrant for the defendant’s campsite. Searching all of the defendant’s belongings would naturally occur.”

“Sustained,” Judge Whitlock replied.

“I’ll rephrase,” Justin said returning his focus to Officer Davis. “How many of you were searching the defendant’s campsite?”

“There were four of us. There were myself and my partner, Officer Rucker, along with Detectives Simmons and Tindall.”

“And you were assigned to search the defendant’s personal effects?”

“Well not originally. I was supposed to search the perimeter of the campsite. But my partner asked me to come and help him search Mike’s, I mean the defendant’s, personal effects.”

“Why. Excuse me. Let me rephase the question. Where were Detective’s Simmons and Tindall?”

“They were searching the area around the campfire. They were looking in the cooking stuff and they were checking a bag hung up in a tree. The bag had all of the food in it.”

“Was anyone with you when you discovered the wallet and cell phone?’

“Yes, my partner was there with me.”

“And he saw you when discovered the wallet and cell phone?”

“Yes, he even told me to check the bedroll.”

“So you actually discovered the wallet and cell phone together.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Thank you Officer Davis,” Justin said as he turned towards Judge Whitlock. “I have no further questions.”

  • * * * * *

Kimberly and Steve watched as Paul Campbell’s car was towed into the police impound lot. The tow truck driver backed the car into a wide space and unhooked it. A locksmith was able to unlock the car and trunk in less than five minutes. The detective waited until both had left before approaching the vehicle. They put on nitrile gloves. Steve opened the passenger door and began to search the interior of the car. Kimberly opened the trunk.

“Steve, come here,” Kimberly demanded.

Steve walked around to where Kimberly was standing.

Kimberly motioned to the contents in the trunk. “We have a backpack, what looks like some kind of sampling kit, a few tools, and three bottles of water. Things you would take if you were going out to the lake to take water samples.”

“I haven’t check the interior yet,” Steve replied. “But at first glance, I didn’t see anything in there, not even trash. We need to get forensics to go over everything.”

“The real question is why was Paul Campbell’s car at the college when his body was in the lake?”

“There are two possibilities,” Kimberly stated. “The first was Campbell was killed at the college and the killer took the body to the lake to hide it.”

“And the second?” Steve asked with a grin.

“The second is the killer needed Campbell’s car to get back to the campus.”

Steve nodded his head in agreement. “There’s one more thing. If Paul Campbell was killed on the same night as Raymond Carlsen. . .”

“Then we’re dealing with more than one killer.”

  • * * * * *

Chapter Twenty-Six

Thom Ferrell smiled as he took his seat on the witness stand.

“You seem kind of happy to be here,” Judge Whitlock.

“I am,” Thom answered. “It’s the first time for me to be in a courtroom. It’s kind of exciting.”

Judge Whitlock chuckled. “Well try to keep your enthusiasm contained. Remember to answer the questions to the best of your ability. If you have any questions, you can ask me.”

“Thank you.

Judge Whitlock nodded to Connor. “Counselor, you may begin.”

“Thank you, your honor,” Connor responded as he stood up and faced Thom. “Please state your name and occupation for the court.”

“Thom Ferrell. I own and run the marina at Mist Lake.”

“And that’s where the two murders occurred?”

“Objection,” Justin said without looking up from his notepad. “It has not been established the homicides took place at Mist Lake.”

“Sustained,” Judge Whitlock said.

“I’ll rephrase,” Connor replied with obvious annoyance. “You work at Mist Lake where two homicide victims were discovered. Is that correct?”

“Yes, it is. The first one discovered was Raymond Carlsen. Then about a week later they found the second victim, Paul Campbell.”

“On the night Raymond Carlsen was murdered. . .”

“Objection,” Justin said, this time looking at the judge. “The witness has no knowledge of when the victim was murdered.”

“Overruled,” Judge Whitlock responded. “The coroner already established Raymond Carlsen was killed the night his body was found. It’s reasonable the witness would know what day the victim was killed, especially since it was in the news.”

“Thank you, your honor,” Connor said with satisfaction. He turned his attention back to Thom. “Now on the night Raymond Carlsen was murdered, did anything happen earlier that day? Was there any contact between the defendant and the victim?”


“No,” Connor exclaimed. “There wasn’t an altercation between the defendant and the victim?”

“If you mean the argument they had, that took place a couple of days before that kid was killed. It really wasn’t that much. . .”

“Please limit your answers to the questions,” Connor interjected. “So there was an altercation between the defendant and the victim?”

“Well, Wild Mike yelled at the kid who was killed. When the kid pushed Mike, he punched the kid. But it was just. . .”

“Again, limit your answers to the questions,” Connor stated, showing signs of frustration. “Was there an altercation or not?”

“Yes, there was an argument. . .”

“That’s all I have for the witness,” Connor said cutting Thom off.

Justin stood up as Connor sat. Judge Whitlock nodded for Justin to begin his cross examination.

“Good morning Thom,” Justin said. “How are you doing today?”

“Why, I’m just fine, thank you.”

“Let’s go back to the argument between Mike Richards and Raymond Carlsen. Can you tell the court exactly what happened?”

“Sure,” Thom replied. “The kid, I mean the victim, threw a wrapper on the ground. He littered. Mike got angry. He picked up the wrapper and then started scolding the kid, I mean the victim. Well they argued for a couple of minutes. Then the kid, I mean the victim, pushed Mike. Well, that set Mike off and he punched the kid. Then the kid’s friends got involved. They held him back while Mike just stood there for a minute. Then Mike left. The kids called the cops and made a complaint against Mike for assault.”

Justin held up his hand to stop Thom. “Thank you. Was there any other contact between Mike Richards, the defendant, and Raymond Carlsen?”

“Not that I know of.”

“What about between Mike Richards and Paul Campbell?”

“Well, I saw them talking to each other a couple of times. But there never seemed to be any trouble.”

“Objection,” Connor yelled. “Calls for the witness to testify to facts not in evidence.”

“Overruled,” Judge Whitlock stated. “You’re charging the defendant with the murder of both victims. The defense is allowed to ask about the relationship between the defendant and both victims.”

“Thank you, your honor,” Justin said, picking up several sheets of paper. “The prosecuting attorney reminded me I need to enter something into evidence. Permission to approach the witness.”

The judge nodded. “Go ahead.”

Justin walked over and handed Thom the papers. “Thom. Do you know what you are holding?”

“Sure do. This is a copy of the statement I gave to the police about my boats being used.”

“Please explain,” Justin said with a wave of his hand.

“Well I noticed that the knots, the way I fasten the boats to the docks were different. It seemed someone was using my boats at night, bringing them back, but not securing them to the docks the same way I do. I thought it was a bit strange and I told the police. I remember the boats it seemed someone had used a boat on the night that kid was killed.”

“Objection,” Connor shouted. “This is evidence that has not been introduced. It’s irrelevant. So some kids trespass. That has nothing to do with this case.”

“Your honor,” Justin interjected. “I’m trying to introduce this statement into evidence. As for relevance, I will show how it relates to the murders later in the trial.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Connor objected. “The prosecution doesn’t have access to this statement. This is the first we have heard of it.”

“He’s wrong,” Justin exclaimed. “This statement is in the police investigation report. The prosecution has had access to it. It’s not the defense’s fault he failed to read it.”

“Your honor,” Connor yelled.

Judge Whitlock pounded her gavel several times. “Gentlemen, or should I say children, stop this arguing. The objection is overruled; but I am warning the defense that there had better be a very good reason for introducing this evidence, and not a waste of the court’s time.”

“There is your honor,” Justin said as he retrieved the papers from Thom and handed them to Judge Whitlock. “I would like to enter this statement as evidence for the defense.”

Justin return to his table in the courtroom. “Thom, explain to the court how you knew someone was taking your boats out at night.”

“Well, it was the knots. I wrap the rope around the cleat, the metal thing on the dock we use to tie up the boats. Anyway, I wrap the rope around the cleat, then I loop the rope over the horns. I’ve done it this way even since I started working at the marina when I was a teenager. But sometimes I would go out and see that the boat had been tied to the dock a different way. I’m sure someone is taking the boats out at night. I don’t mind much because they always bring the boats back. But I do mind that they use the boats with paying to rent them.”

“And on the night Raymond Carlsen was killed, you’re sure someone used one of your boats?”

“Yep. I remember it because of that kid’s murder. I told the police about it.”

“When did you tell the police about the boat?”

“That next day,” Thom answered. “At first they didn’t seem to be interested. But there was this young fellow. He thought he should take my statement just in case it mattered. I remember his partner was a bit peeved. I guess he was in a hurry because he kept looking at his watch.”

“Objection,” Connor said loudly. “Calls for speculation on the part of the witness.”

“Sustained,” Judge Whitlock acknowledge.”

“That’s okay,” Justin responded. “I have no further questions for this witness.”

  • * * * * *

Kimberly walked into the office to find Steve at his desk working on his computer. “Anything from forensics on Paul Campbell’s car?” she asked.

Steve looked up from his computer and cleared his throat. “Let me start this conversation out the way it should be. Good morning Detective Simmons. How are you?”

“Pissed. Now can you answer my question?”

“Why, I’m fine Detective Simmons. Thank you for not asking.”

Kimberly walked over to Steve’s desk, placed her hands on it, and lean over so that her face was inches from Steve’s. “I’m happy you are well. Now. Anything from forensics?”

Steve stood up, forcing Kimberly to move away from his desk. Steve went over to a coffee pot and poured himself a cup. “Would you like a cup of coffee, Detective Simmons?”

“No! Answer my question.”

“The one about forensics?”

“Yes,” Kimberly demanded. “What have they sent us?”

“Nothing,” Steve answered.

“Then why didn’t you just say so instead of driving me out of my mind?”

“You need to learn patience. It takes time for forensics to go through everything.”

“So we have nothing.”

“Not true,” Steve said with a grin as he returned to his desk and handed Kimberly a folder. “We have photographs the crime scene folks took before sending the stuff off to the lab.”

Kimberly carefully examined each photo. She stopped when she came to one showing pages in a notebook. “This shows entries in the notebook the day Raymond Carlsen was killed. According to this, Paul Campbell was out at the lake collecting samples.”

“Exactly. Also note the time listed in the entries. It’s just hours before Carlsen’s body was discovered.”

“Okay. This shows Campbell was at the lake the night Carlsen was killed.”

“The crime scene people found the samples he listed in the notebook.”

Kimberly moved to her desk and sat down. “There are two possibilities here. One, Paul Campbell saw who killed Carlsen. He got scared and ran from the crime scene. But later, someone killed him and dumped his body in the lake.”

“Or,” Steve said, drawing the word out.

“He was killed the same night as Carlsen and the killer drove Campbell’s car back to the campus.”

“And you know what that means?”

“It means that Mike Richards didn’t kill Paul Campbell, and probably didn’t kill Raymond Carlsen.”

“That’s right. Wild Mike is innocent.”

“But how are we going to prove it?”

  • * * * * *

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“Gentlemen, this is our final witness for today,” Judge Whitlock stated. “Take you time, but don’t waste mine.”

Connor got up and approached the witness. “Please state your name and occupation for the record.”

“Homer Rucker. I’m a police officer here in town.”

“Thank you,” Connor replied. ‘Please tell the court what happened the night Raymond Carlsen was killed.”

“It was about nine o’clock at night when we, my partner Jefferson Davis, and I got dispatched to check out a body at Mist Lake. When we got there, we saw the defendant, Mike Richards with the body of Raymond Carlsen. We asked for the defendant to stop, but he ran off into the woods. He ran after him, but he eluded us. Fortunately Detective Kimberly Simmons captured him at a boat house about a mile away. We went over there and took the prisoner into custody. When we returned to the crime scene with the prisoner. . .”

“Objection,” Justin interjected. “The defendant wasn’t, and isn’t, a prisoner. He was a person of interest in an investigation.”

“Sustained,” Judge Whitlock acknowledged before turning to Officer Rucker. “Please refer to the defendant by name. It will make things a lot easier.”

“Yes, your honor. As I was saying, when we got back to the crime scene, I saw the victim. I was told to book Mike on suspicion. I told the detectives we should search the prison, I mean Mike’s camp because I was sure the victim’s wallet and cell phone would be there. I remember the detectives wanted to get a warrant before going there. They wanted to make sure everything was done according to the book. So, my partner and I took Mike in and booked him.”

“Thank you Officer Rucker,” Connor said as he picked up three photographs. “Was there any evidence at the scene tying the defendant to the crime?”

“There sure was,” Rucker answered. “We found the, I mean Mike’s hat and his binoculars at the scene, and he was wear a shirt with blood on it.”

Connor approached Rucker and handed him three photographs. “Are these pictures of the items you just described?”

Rucker took a quick look at each photo and handed them back to Connor. “Yes, they are.”

“Thank you. That’s all I have for this witness.”

Justin waited for Connor to sit down. He took a few minutes to look at his notes, hoping the silence would unnerve the police officer on the stand.

“Counselor,” Judge Whitlock said, hoping to get Justin to begin his cross examination. “Do you have any questions for this witness?”

“Just a few,” Justin replied.

Justine stood up, tucked at his jacket before picking up his notes. “Officer Rucker. You stated they found my client’s hat and binoculars at the crime scene. Did you see them?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Then how did you know they were at the crime scene?”

“I guess the detectives told me. I really can’t remember.”

“So, the detectives discussed the status of the investigation with you when you brought my client to the crime scene?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“Officer Rucker. Your partner, Officer Davis, testified here the other day. He didn’t mention anything about you or him returning to the crime scene. Why is that?”

“Objection,” Connor shouted. “Calls for speculation on the part of the witness.”

“Sustained,” Judge Whitlock said, glaring at Justin. “Counselor, you know better.”

“I’ll rephrase. Officer Rucker, was your partner with you when you returned to the crime scene?’

“Yeah, why wouldn’t he be?”

“Where was my client when you returned?”

Rucker gave a small chuckle. “Glad you asked. Now I remember. I had my partner stay with the prisoner in the car, the patrol vehicle. Didn’t want him to escape.”

“I see. How long were you at the crime scene?’

“Only a few minutes. I was just checking in the detectives.”

“Do you remember who you talked to?”

“I think it was Detective Tindall and Detective Simmons; no, I’m sure it was them.”

“Let’s turn out attention to the search of my client’s campsite. How did you and Officer Davis get assigned to help Detectives Tindall and Simmons with the search?”

“Oh, that’s easy. We volunteered.”

Justin gave the witness a look of disbelief. “Even after spending the entire night on watch. Weren’t you tired?”

“Objection,” Connor yelled. “What is the relevance of this line of questioning?”

“I’ll rephrase,” Justin interject, saving the judge from having to rule on Connor’s objection. “Officer Rucker, why did you volunteer to help with the search?”

Rucker cleared his throat. “Well, two reasons. The first was I was interested in how the case was going. It’s not often we have a homicide out here. I guess I just wanted to be involved. The second reason is it was good for my partner. Officer Davis is a rookie and getting experience in handling evidence is good for the boy.”

“And you did find evidence at my client’s campsite?”

“No, that wasn’t me. It was Officer Davis who found the victim’s wallet and cell phone at Mike’s campsite. But I was there and saw him find it.”

Kimberly got up and left the spectator section of the courtroom. Her movements, momentarily distracted Justin as he watched her leave. He turned his attention back to the witness. “Were there any signs of struggle at my client’s campsite.”

“I don’t remember any. But I could be mistaken.”

“Do you remember anything unusual at my client’s campsite.”

“Just finding the victim’s cell phone and wallet,” Rucker replied smugly.

  • * * * * *

The Purple Pig was crowded; but being the most popular barbecue place in county, this came as no surprise to Justin. He looked at his cell phone to check the time and to ensure he hadn’t received any text messages. He was on time and there were no messages. Justin stood a few feet from the entrance to allow others access to the dining area while he looked around. It took only a few seconds before he saw Kimberly seated at a table.

“You must really like barbecue,” Justin stated as he approached Kimberly, who was toying with her beer.

“I’ve already ordered. Take a seat and look over the menu while I get our waitress to come take you order.”

Justin picked up the large laminated menu. Kimberly signaled for a waitress to come over. Justin smiled when she approached. He ordered a barbecue sandwich with fries and cole slaw. He also ordered a beer.

Justin waited until the waitress left before speaking. “I was a bit surprised to hear from you. But I’m happy you called and wanted to meet for dinner.”

“Let’s get this straight,” Kimberly said with a hint of hostility in her voice. “This isn’t a date.”

“Then I won’t give you a goodnight kiss,” Justin replied, mirroring Kimberly’s hostility. “Exactly why did you call? Why did you want to see me?”

Kimberly took a deep breath. She continued to toy with her beer. The waitress returned with Justin’s drink. Kimberly waited until she left before answering Justin. “Steve and I have been looking into some things about the Campbell homicide. He’s the second college kid that was murdered out at Mist Lake.”

“I know who he is,” Justin stated.

“I’m sure you do. Anyway, some things didn’t make sense to us. We never did close that case. We got curious about Campbell’s car. We found it at the college. It turns out Paul Campbell was out at Mist Lake the night Raymond Carlsen was killed.”

“How does that help my client; who is innocent by the way?”

Kimberly smiled. “Paul Campbell was killed the same way as Raymond Carlsen. There are two possibilities. The first is Campbell saw what happened, returned to the campus and was killed afterwards. The second is Campbell was killed first, on the same night as Carlsen, and the killer drove Campbell’s car back to the campus.”

Justin leaned back in his chair. He took a sip of his beer. “You know what this means?”

Kimberly snickered. “Of course. But do you?”

Justin leaned forward and stared at Kimberly. “If the same person killed both Raymond Carlsen and Paul Campbell, then my client couldn’t have done it.”

“That’s right. But you need to prove the same person killed both of them.”

“Thanks for the heads up.”

“There’s more,” Kimberley said.

“Okay,” Justin replied, drawing out the word. “What?”

“Forensics isn’t back yet, but I don’t expect any real surprises there. Hopefully it will give us a lead on a suspect.”

“Okay.” Again Justin drew out word when responding.

“But I was in court today,” Kimberly continued. “I was there when Officer Rucker testified.”

“So,” Justin inquired. “Was there something wrong with his testimony?”

“I don’t remember him or his partner coming to the crime scene. I told them to book Wild Mike. There would be no reason to go back to crime scene.”

“I’ve been to crime scenes, especially homicides. They are a mess. It’s possible they showed up for a few minutes and you just didn’t see them.”

“No,” Kimberly answer emphatically. “Steve is great at controlling crime scenes. And I know I didn’t see Officer Rucker at the crime scene.”

“Well, I’ll go over the crime scene notes from the investigation to see if he was there or not.”

“But here is the strange thing.”

Justin giggled. “Strange!? This whole case is strange. Two college kids are killed at a lake. No one can come with a good motive for either case. Everyone I talked to seems mentally unbalanced. We have mystery boaters who take boats out at night but return them in the morning. We have a bunch of snob on High Road, all of who are rich and have no idea there was a murder beneath their windows.”

“Stop!” Kimberly demanded. “The strange thing is I remember Rucker telling me we would probably find Carlsen’s cell phone and wallet at Wild Mike’s camp; but this was the night of the murder, before we searched the camp.”

“You just said he wasn’t at the crime scene. When did he tell you this if he wasn’t at the crime scene?”

“He said it when he picked Mike Richards up after I took him into custody. I didn’t think of it then, but now, it seems he knew Mike was the killer.”

“Could it have been a lucky guess?”

“I guess so,” Kimberly replied. “I mean we got the warrant to search Wild Mike’s camp for evidence. It’s only logical there would be something there.”

Justin took a sig of his beer. “But the only evidence you found there that tied my client to Carlsen’s homicide were the cell phone and the wallet.”

“That’s right,” Kimberly answered. “They were the only two pieces of evidence linking Wild Mike to Carlsen’s death.”

“What about Mike’s hat and binoculars found at the crime scene?”

Kimberly grinned. Steve and I were wondering about that. If Wild Mike killed Carlsen at his campsite, why did he bring his binoculars with him. He just wanted to get rid of the body. Furthermore, knowing Wild Mike as I do; if he wanted to get rid of a body, he could do it. And we would still be searching for it with a very low probability of ever finding it. Wild Mike is a bit crazy and not very friendly; but he’s real good out there in those woods.”

“There’s the blood on Mike’s shirt.”

“Yes, and it is Carlsen’s blood. But the strange thing is there isn’t that much blood on Carlsen’s clothes. There’s more blood on Mike’s shirt than on Carlsen’s.”

The waitress brought out the food Kimberly and Justin had order. Kimberly thank her and assured her they were sure to enjoy their meals.

Justin watched as the waitress left. He turned to Kimberly. “I’m getting an impression that maybe you think my client is innocent.

“There’s no maybe about it, Wild Mike is innocent.”

  • * * * * *

Chapter Twenty-Eight

At this time in the morning the two young ladies should have been grabbing coffee as they made their way to their morning classes. Instead, Jessica Brehens and Deborah Laounty were sitting quietly in two chairs in a police interview room when Kimberly and Steve entered.

“Don’t these two look familiar?” Steve said as placed a thin file on the table between him and the young women.

“We have rights,” Deborah responded shaking her raven-black hair. “We want our lawyer.”

“That’s right,” Jessica added as she sat up straight. Kimberly glared at her. Jessica pulled at her blond hair as she leaned back in her chair, losing the bravo she just displayed.

Steve glanced at Kimberly who motioned for him to continue. “Since your last visit here, we did a bit of checking up on you and your companions. It turns out you two are law students, so I’m not going to insult your intelligence. Let’s face it; I wouldn’t be surprised to discover you know more about criminal law than I do.”

“Of course we do,” Deborah replied. “And if you don’t let us go, we’re going to sue you for false arrest.”

“No, you’re not,” Kimberly stated. “You were brought in for resisting arrest after a patrol officer pulled you over for speeding.”

“But I wasn’t driving,” Jessica yelled. “I didn’t commit any crime.”

“No,” Steve replied. “No. According to the report you accosted the officer..”

Steve picked up the file and opened it. After a minute of looking through the papers in the file, he closed it. “To tell you the truth, we more interested in asking you some questions than we are with charging you with a traffic violation. As for the resisting arrest and assault charges. . .”

Deborah folded her arms across her chest. “I get it. We squeal and you drop the charges. Do you really think such a cheap trick is going to work.”

“I’m afraid I haven’t made myself clear,” Steve said. “You’re two college kids who did something stupid. We’re not interested in taking you to court. However, we, the police and society, would appreciate it if you showed a bit more respect for our officers. Still, what we need is some help with a couple of cases we are working on.”

“What cases?” Jessica asked.

“The murders of Raymond Carlsen and Paul Campbell,” Kimberly answered. “And before you tell me that Michael Richards did it, let me make one thing clear. No, he didn’t. Someone else killed your classmates.”

Jessica and Deborah exchanged glances. “If Wild Mike didn’t do it, who did?” Deborah asked.

“That’s what you’re going to help us find out,” Kimberly replied. “Now, let’s talk.”

  • * * * * *

Mike was still shackled when Justin walked into the small conference room reserved for the defense attorneys and their clients. The actual courtroom was just down the hall. The bailiff was standing in the corner.

“Do you mind if we have some privacy,” Justin said to the bailiff.

“No problem,” the bailiff answered. “But the restraints stay on until we get into the courtroom.”

“Sure,” Justin acknowledged.

The bailiff left the room and Justin sat down across from Mike. “How are you doing?” Justin asked.

“Absolutely great, really enjoying life,” Mike answered. “How about you?”

“Fine. Thanks for asking. Before court starts I want to get some facts straight.”

“Sure. It’s not like it’s at the last minute and you should have done this weeks ago.”

Justin glared at Mike to show his annoyance. “You said you went into the water to pull Carlsen out. Did you know he was dead at that time?”

“No,” Mike said being a bit more cooperative. “I mean I kind of thought so, but just in case he wasn’t, I wanted to get him some help.”

“How were you going to do that? You don’t have a cell phone. You’re all by yourself at the lake. Who were you going to call? How were you going to get help?”

“Hadn’t really thought about it. Figured I would run up to High Road and get someone up there to call 9-1-1.”

“From the moment you heard the noise on the lake to when you got the body out of the water, how long was that? Was it a few minutes? Longer?”

Mike took a minute before responding. “I heard some noises and went down to the lake. That probably took about ten minutes. I got there and maybe a minute or two later, I saw the people in the boat dump something in the lake. They left immediately afterwards. I guess it took me a couple of minutes before I realized it was a body. I went in and dragged it out. That didn’t take very long, maybe another ten or fifteen minutes. The body wasn’t that far from the shore, about a hundred meters. I’m fairly strong swimmer, so I was able to cover the distance quickly.”

“So you were in the water for at least ten minutes, maybe fifteen.”

“Yeah, so? Once you jump in, you’re not going to get any wetter.”

“You said the boat left right away. Are you sure they left?”

“I saw it leaving. After that I focused on what they dropped in the water. I know they weren’t around when I went into the water.”

“How do you know that?” Justin asked.

“The boat went around the bend. I couldn’t see it anymore. It wouldn’t make any sense to hang around after dumping the body.”

“Was the boat around the bend when you got to the body?’

“I think so,” Mike answered. “Once I realized it was a person, I didn’t really pay any attention to the boat.”

“So the people in the boat could have seen, or heard, you go after the body.”

“It’s possible,” Mike replied. “But then, why didn’t they come after me?”

“An excellent question,” was Justin’s answer.

  • * * * * *

It was almost six when Justin returned to his office and found Kimberly talking to Wendy. Both women silently watched him as he went to his desk and set down his briefcase.

“How did court go today?” Wendy asked.

Justin groaned. “The prosecution established Mike lives in the woods, is a bit strange, walks around with binoculars looking at things on the lake, and is generally not very sociable.”

“Oh, my goodness,” Wendy responded with fake surprise. “They’ll hang him for sure.”

Kimberly chuckled. “Maybe I have some  good news for you.”

“I could use it,” Justin replied.

“Steve and I are looking into the homicides out at the lake. We got lucky. A couple of young ladies, grad students at the college, were brought in on a speeding and resisting arrest charge.”

Justin nodded his head. “And they need a lawyer.”

“Quit interrupting,” Kimberly said, pointing her finger at Justin. “They’re not being charged with anything. But Steve and I noticed they had been picked up once before for suspicion of possession of cocaine. Anyway, we were able to talk to them and they told us some interesting things about what is happening at the lake.”

“Such as,” Justin inquired.

“For one, they used to go swimming out there. But they don’t anymore because a couple of months ago they got a skin rash from swimming in the lake. Also, they’ve heard a lot of fishermen complain about the fishing out there; and they’ve noticed a lot of dead fish in certain parts of the lake.”

Justin waved his hand. “We already know there is something going on out there that is poisoning the water. That’s what Paul Campbell was looking for before he was murdered.”

Kimberly nodded her head in agreement. “And we know, or suspect, that someone is taking boats out there at night. But what these ladies told me was they aren’t the only ones who developed skin rashes. Some grad students also had them and still do. But there are these students on scholarships, but they always have money, quite a bit in fact. And they hang out at the lake a lot. ”

Justin put his fingers together. “Did they say how these students are earning this money?”

“No, but they did say these guys were very familiar with the marina.”

“Did they say anything else?”

“Yes. They work at night.”

Justin groaned. “Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to get much sleep tonight.”

“Hey you two,” Wendy said with a smile. “Just because you’re going out to the lake, I don’t want to hear about any submarine races.”

“It’s not a date,” Kimberly responded before looking at Justin. “That means no good night kiss.”

  • * * * * *

Justin leaned back in the passenger’s seat and closed his eyes. Kimberly, in the driver’s seat, lashed out gently smacking Justin in the chest. “Wake up sleepy head. We’re on a stake out. I need you awake.”

Justin groaned as he opened his eyes. “We’ve been here for hours, and nothing.”

Kimberly had parked her car in the shadow of the convenience store that served as the marina’s office. Her watched showed it was almost eleven o’clock. They had been sitting in the dark for at least four hours. “Be patient,” she said. “We’ll give it another hour, then call it quits.”

“Why?” Justin complained. “According to your report, Raymond Carlsen was killed early in the evening, around eight or nine, not midnight. Besides, what makes you think the criminal activity you hope to find happens every night?”

Kimberly drummed her fingers on the steering wheel for a minute. “You may have a point. What night was Carlsen killed? I mean what day of the week was it?”

Justin pulled out a small notebook from his jacket and held it up to the window in the hopes of reading it. Kimberly turned on the interior light. “It was a Wednesday . I first met him the next day, Thursday. Why?

“What day is today?”

“It’s Tuesday.”

“That’s right,” Kimberly replied. “You’re right. It doesn’t happen every night. But I’m willing to bet it happens every Wednesday.”

“You mean we’re going to do this again tomorrow.”

Kimberly faced Justin and said sweetly, “Aren’t you lucky. You get to go out with me twice in one week.”

“But it’s still not a date.”

“And you’re not getting a good-night kiss.”

  • * * * * *

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“Good morning,” Judge Gwen Whitlock said as she took her seat on the bench. “Counselors, are you ready for today?”

Justin stood up. “Actually, your honor, the defense would like a continuance. We believe have new evidence that will exonerate my client. If the court could give us a week to gather and present this evidence.”

“Objection,” Connor shouted. “The prosecution is unaware of any new evidence. If there was something, the police would have brought it to our attention. The defense is grasping at straws.”

The judge made a teepee with her hands. “Mr. Ainsley, what do you have? Do have any physical evidence? Any new witnesses? Please. Just what do you have?”

Your honor,” Justin began. “The current case against my client is completely circumstantial. Investigations on these two murders reveal several inconsistencies. We would like to investigate these matters further to prove my client innocent.”

“Your honor,” Connor shouted. “The defense is wasting our time.”

The judge held up her hand to silence Connor. “Today is Wednesday. I’m willing to give the defense till next Monday. While I don’t want this trial to drag on, I’m not willing to sacrifice justice just to have a speedy trial.”

The judge turned to Justin. “I’ll give you till next Monday. But this is the last favor I’m doing for the defense. If you don’t have anything substantial, it will not go well for you or your client. Do you understand?”

Justin nodded his head. “Yes, your honor.” He glanced back at Kimberly, who smiled. They had five days to catch a murderer.

  • * * * * *

Justin could tell Denise Stebbins was uncomfortable with being in a police interview room. She brushed her hair back with her hand, even though her dark hair was in a ponytail. The blue Hawaiian tee shirt draped over her tan shorts. Justin noticed she kept tapping her feet. Denise stiffened when Kimberly walked into the room.

Kimberly smiled as she sat down. “Ms. Stebbins, I appreciate you coming in. I realize it must be an inconvenience, especially with such short notice.”

“Call me Denise. I’ll do anything I can to put Paul’s killer in prison.”

“I appreciate that,” Kimberly said, pulling a photograph from a file she had brought into the room. “Do you recognize this car?”

“Of course,” Denise answered. “It’s Paul’s car.”

“Thank you,” Kimberly replied.

Denise shrugged her shoulders. “So?”

“We also found evidence that suggests he was out at Misty Lake the night Raymond Carlsen was killed. Furthermore, his body was recovered out there. When was the last time you saw your boyfriend?”

“Paul! His name is Paul! And the last time I saw him was the day that other boy was killed. It was after classes. He told me he was going out to the lake.”

“You didn’t go with him?”

“No, I had a lot of homework to do. Besides, he said he would call when he got back.”

“Did he call?”

“No. That’s when I got worried. The next day I checked at the university, his dorm room, everywhere; but I could find him. I tried calling him, but I got no answer. That afternoon I went to the police and filed a report; but I don’t think they did anything. Several days later, you found his body. Then you did something; but it was too late. He was already dead.” Denise crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair.

Kimberly picked up the photo of the car and returned it to the file folder. “I’m sorry about how you were treated by this department. But if it’s any consolation, we believe Paul was killed the same night as Raymond Carlsen. There was nothing you could have done.”

Denise sprang forward and slapped her hand on the table in front of her. “You could have arrested that crazy homeless guy before he killed Paul.”

Justin reached across the table and gently place his hand on Denise’s. She withdrew her hand. “Please, I know you’re upset,” Justin said. “But we are here now to see that whoever killed Paul is arrested.”

“You’ve got him,” Denise yelled. “You’re defending that creep.”

Kimberly clasped her hands together and rested her chin on them. “You’re not going to like what I’m about to tell you, but I need you to listen. You’re the only one who can help us.”

Denise glared at Kimberly. “What? How can I help?”

Kimberly put her hands down on the table. “We found Paul’s car at the university, but his body was discovered at the lake. That means someone killed him at the university and then took his body out to the lake; or that person killed him at Misty Lake and then drove his car back to the university.”

Denise stared at Justin and Kimberly. Justin could tell she was in shock, realizing what Kimberly had told her. “You don’t think I killed him?”

“Did you?” Kimberly asked with a slight smirk.

“No!” Denise shouted, slamming her hand on the table. “I loved him,” she answered with tears in her eyes.

“Figured as much,” Kimberly replied. “I sincerely doubt you could have beaten him to death, then dragged his body into a boat and dump it in the lake.”

Denise wipes her eyes and sniffled. “So? What do you want from me?”

“Do you know how your boyfriend’s car ended up at the university? Did someone else go with him? Maybe that person drove him out to the lake.”

Denise continued to sniffle to keep from crying. “I don’t know anything about Paul’s car. As for anyone going out to the lake with him, the only people who ever went out there with Paul were Professor Kokolowski and me. I’m sure the professor didn’t kill him.”

“Why is that?” Justin asked.

“Because I saw him at the supermarket on my way home. I remember because the day that other boy was killed, was the last time I saw Paul. I remember that day very clearly.”

Justin turned to Kimberly. “You know what that means?”

“Yes,” Kimberly answered. “We need to find out who drove Paul Campbell’s car back to the university.”

  • * * * * *

“You just ate lunch,” Kimberly complained as Steve opened a bag of potato chips. “You can’t be hungry.”

“You don’t need to be hungry to eat potato chips,” Steve answered.

“Never mind,” Kimberly replied. “You get anything back from forensics yet?”

Steve pointed to a folder on his desk. “Got it this morning. They found several prints, that were not the victim’s, Paul Campbell. There was trace evidence of the mud and water from around the lake, but then our victim could have brought that into the car. They sent the samples found in the trunk to the state lab, but they detected chemicals in the samples, specifically phosphorus. Forensics think that’s what maybe killing the fish out at Misty Lake. No DNA other than the victim’s. The journals were examined, but all the entries were made by the victim.”

“But the last entry in them was the night Raymond Carlsen was killed.”

Steve waved a potato chip at Kimberly to signal she was correct.

Kimberly pulled out a piece of paper and drew a line down the left side. At the top of the page she wrote 1600 and wrote 2200 at the bottom. “Eight hours,” she said. “In those eight hours someone killed Raymond Carlsen, dumped his car in the lake, took Carlsen’s body out on the lake and dumped it, drove Paul Campbell’s car back to the university, called the police, and planted evidence at Wild Mike’s camp.”

“Maybe not,” Steve interjected. “Maybe individuals, unknown of course, killed Paul Campbell and dumped his body in the lake.”

“And then someone drove Campbell’s car back to the university.”

“But do we really know when Campbell’s car was driven back to the university? We’re fairly certain it was at Misty Lake the night Carlsen was killed. But the car could have been driven back the next day or later.”

“I talked to Denise Stebbins this morning. She’s Paul Campbell’s girlfriend. She told me the last she heard or saw him was the same night as Carlsen was killed, so it’s reasonable to assume Campbell was killed then too. Multiple killers would explain how so much was accomplished in one night.”

Steve emptied the bag of chips and wiped his hands on a tissue from the box on his desk. “It would also explain how our victims were beaten so badly and their assailants leaving without any marks. In a one-on-one fight, especially two in one night, the killer would have some bumps and bruises. Something that Wild Mike didn’t have when we took him into custody.”

Kimberly picked up the phone.

“Who are you calling?” Steve asked with a grin.

“Justin, Wild Mike’s attorney.”

Before Steve could make a comment, Justin answered the phone. Kimberly glared at Steve as she spoke into the phone. “Justin, Steve and I have gone over some details. There are some things we need to look into tonight when we’re out at the lake.”

“Great,” Justin replied. “Why don’t I meet you at the Cactus Rose Saloon at six.”

“Fine,” Kimberly answered. “It’s a date.” She hung up the phone.

“Does this mean he gets a good-night kiss?” Steve inquired with a chuckle.

  • * * * * *

It was getting dark when Kimberly turned down a dirt road.

“Where are we going?” Justin asked.

“Remember I told you there were three docks out here,” Kimberly replied. “One is at the marina, a second is below High Road, and the third is down here. Years ago, there was a mining operation out here and they had their own dock. Why, I don’t know. Everything was shipped out by rail. But, they had a dock on the lake, probably for fishermen.”

“And what does that have to do with everything you told me at dinner?”

Kimberly glanced at Justin. “It’s called a hunch. We police officers have them at times. I think something is going on at that old mine; something that got Raymond Carlsen and Paul Campbell killed.”

Kimberly pulled off the dirt road and behind a large tree. She turned off the headlights and closed her eyes.

“What are you doing?” a confused Justin asked.

“We’re going to hoof it the rest of the way. I’m trying to get my night vision adjusted. I don’t want to use a flashlight and announce our arrival.”

“Wait a minute,” Justin insisted. “If there is something dangerous going on up there, we need back up. I don’t care how good of a cop you are. You can’t take on a gang of killers single-handed. And after everything you told me at dinner, it’s obviously dangerous out here.”

Kimberly chuckled. “Relax. Steve and two patrol units are standing by. I’ll call them when we get out of the car. They know if I don’t call back in an hour, to come and rescue us. If we do find something, of course I’ll call them immediately.”

“Why aren’t they here with us?”

“I didn’t want to have them hanging around while we were having dinner. I have to put up with enough of Steve’s teasing as it is. I certainly didn’t want to give him more opportunity. Let’s go. Close your eyes before you open the door and keep them closed until after you get out and shut the door.”

Justin did as Kimberly directed. He came around the car. “I’m bringing a flashlight just in case.”

Kimberly held up a hand-held radio. “We all need our security blankets. But you need to be quiet from now on. Sound travels at night.”

“I’m familiar with that. I was in the Army.”

“You were a lawyer in the Army, not a foot soldier.”

  • * * * * *

Twenty minutes later, Kimberly and Justin heard voices. Kimberly motioned for Justin to follow her as they made their way to some bushes next to a large tree. They remained hidden, watching several young men loading packages on a boat. Justin recognized it as one of the marina’s.

“We found out who’s borrowing the marina’s boats,” Justin whispered.

Kimberly nodded. “Smell that?”

Justin took a couple of death breaths. “Kind of smells like vinegar and chemicals.”

“That’s right,” Kimberly stated. “Most likely a clandestine drug lab, probably making meth. I even recognize two of them as some kids who got busted at the marina a while ago for drug possession.”

“Great. Call for backup and let’s bust them.”

Kimberly placed her hand on Justin’s arm. “Let’s not, at least not just now. Once they leave, we can take a closer look at what’s going on. Besides, I’m more interested in catching a murderer that a drug dealer.”

“What if those drug dealers are the murderers?” Justin asked.

“Then it would be even better to take a look after they left. We might find evidence linking them to the homicides.”

“What about a warrant? I’m sure any attorney hired by them will challenge any evidence collected without a warrant.”

“The mine’s abandon property. If we find anything, I’ll get a warrant to seize any evidence. But what’s got me curious is the boat. Why do they need a boat? It would be a lot easier and less noticeable to drive in and out using the road we came down. Why take the drugs to the marina and drive them out? It doesn’t make sense.”

Justin nodded his head and continued to stare at the young men as they finished loading the boat, got in, and left. “Maybe we should call for backup before going down there?”

Kimberly held up her hand to signal for Justin to be quiet. She listen intently for several minutes. The wind rustled leaves as it gently blew through trees. She could hear frogs croaking by the water’s edge, as well as waves lapping at the shoreline. She didn’t see or hear any movement from the mine. She tugged Justin sleeve. They left their hiding place and moved toward the mine.

Kimberly stopped at the mine’s entrance, again listening for any signs of movement inside the darken enclosure. After several minutes, she reached for the flashlight Justin had in his hand.

“Doesn’t look like there’s anyone here,” Justin said as he followed Kimberly into the mine. The flashlight illuminated their path.

“I sincerely hope not,” Kimberly answered. “I don’t want to run into anyone at this point.”

Justin grabbed Kimberly’s arm and pointed to several folding tables covered with glass containers, scales, and equipment. “Looks like you were right. It is a drug lab.”

“Again, I don’t know why they are using a boat to take the product out. It would be easier to use the road.”

Justin moved Kimberly’s arm so the flashlight revealed several boxes and small metal drums. “I think I know why. The boat is for bringing material in, as well as taking drugs out. I think we found what was poisoning the fish.”

“More importantly,” Kimberly said, “we found a motive for murder.”

  • * * * * *

Chapter Thirty

 “How did the date go last night?” Tindall asked as Kimberly walked into the detective’s office.

“It wasn’t a date,” Kimberly harshly replied. “But last night was productive. We need to get a warrant for the old mine. Found evidence of a clandestine drug lab.”

“So, tell me what happened last night.”

Kimberly sat down and turned on her computer. “We went out to the old mine. I drove down the road to the mine and parked about a mile away. Justin and I. . .”

“Ooh, Justin,” Tindall said teasingly.

“Yes, Justin and I walked from my car to the mine and observed several young men loading a boat, which we believe was borrowed from the marina. I’ll call later and ask Thom if there is any evidence of someone using a boat last night.”

“Don’t bother,” Tindall interrupted. “Thom called before you came in. He said someone had used one of his boats last night. I told him to leave it as it was. I also sent a forensics team down to photograph and collect any evidence they can find.”

“Good,” Kimberly answered. “Anyway, after the guys left with the boat, Justin and I went down and into the mine. We found several boxes and containers, along with some lab equipment. It looked and smelled like a drug lab. It didn’t look like anyone going to come back, so I decided to wait until daylight before going back to collect any evidence.”

“Better hope no one goes back before you get the warrant.”

Kimberly glared at Tindall. “I’m smarter than that. I send a patrol unit down there this morning to make sure no one entered the mine. If somebody shows up, they will detain them.”

“Then let’s get the warrant.”

“That’s what I’m typing up right now,” Kimberly replied.”

  • * * * * *

Justin groaned a greeting as he entered his office.

“Well, good morning to you too,” Wendy said as Justin made his way to his desk. “I take it you are all ready to prove our client is innocent and the trial is a miscarriage of justice.”

“Coffee first. Then I’ll take on the world.”

Wendy got up and poured Justin a cup of coffee. She carried it to his desk and set it down. “So, what’s got you so excited and full of energy this morning?”

Justin took a sip of coffee. “Detective Simmons and I went out to Misty Lake last night.”

“A date! Well, spill all the juicy details. A kiss? First base? A home run? Come on, inquiring minds want to know.”

“Your mind is in the gutter. Nothing happened.”

“What!? You struck out!”

“We were on a stake out,” Justin loudly stated. “We drove to some abandon mine out there at the lake. Did you know there was mine out there?”

“Of course,” Wendy replied. “Everyone here knows about the mine. Good grief, my father worked out there for years. It used to be a fairly large operation. But then foreign steel made its way into our industry and the mine became too expensive to operate. A lot of people lost their jobs, including my father.”

“What did he do?”

“Well, dad was a smart cookie. He managed to save up some money and opened a hardware store. He was even able to hire a couple of the other miners to help out. Fortunately, because of the rail system from the mine, the county was able to attract an automobile parts manufacturing company to come in and set up a factory. The county had a couple of lean years, but eventually everything turned out okay. Now, back to you and Detective Simmons at the lake.”

“We went out there. Saw some guys loading up a boat, which I believe they got from the marina. I was all for arresting them right there, but Kimberly. . .”


Justin glared at Wendy for a moment. “Yes, Kimberly. She said no. We watched the guys for a while. When they left, we went down to the mine. It looks like they have some kind of drug lab there. We also think this is where the chemicals poisoning the fish is coming from.  She’s going back out there this morning with a warrant to collect evidence.”

“You’ve got a drug lab, heh. Maybe you also have a motive for killing two college students.”

“That’s what I’m thinking. While it would explain the killing of Paul Campbell, the science student, it doesn’t explain why they would kill Raymond Carlsen.”

Wendy sat silently for a few minutes, giving Justin time to drink his coffee. After staring at the white board she had brought in several days ago, Wendy got up and erased what was on it. “It’s time we started over,” she said. “Why don’t you go out with Kimberly, while I work on a theory about how those two boys were killed, and why.”

“You don’t want me to help?”

“No,” Wendy replied. “You’re not nasty enough to think like a killer.”

  • * * * * *

Kimberly pulled up next to the patrol unit setting less than fifty feet from the mine entrance. Tindall, holding a cardboard tray with two coffees and a small bag of donuts, got out on the passenger side.

Officers Debbie Struckman and William Donaldson, got out of their patrol vehicle.

“Great,” Struckman said, “just what we need, more donuts.”

“Be quiet,” Donaldson responded. “I could use the coffee. Besides, there is always room for donuts.”

Struckman gently patted a small paunch on Donaldson. “Seriously, you don’t need any more donuts.”

“Has anyone been out here?” Tindall asked as he set the coffee and donuts on the hood of the patrol vehicle.

“Nope,” Donaldson answered.

“Good,” Kimberly replied. “Come with us and help with checking out the mine. I want as many witnesses as possible when we collect evidence.”

Struckman grabbed a cup of coffee while Donaldson took the other cup and the bag with the donuts. The patrol officers and detectives left their vehicles and walked to the mine. As they entered the mine, Donaldson was munching on a donut, so Struckman pulled out her flashlight.

“Crap,” Tindall exclaimed. He pulled out his pocket flashlight. “Look at all this equipment. They have quite a lab here.”

“We’re going to have get forensics down here,” Kimberly stated. “But first I want to see if we can find any evidence of drug manufacturing.”

“Found it,” Struckman shouted. She pointed to a pile of empty boxes labeled with over-the-counter medications and commercial chemicals. She shone her light on a table full of laboratory glassware. “I’m sure they’ll find some chemical residue in those.”

Kimberly left the mine and walked out on the old pier. She searched the boards and pilings. She stopped and knelt down to examine a dark stain. After a few seconds, she stood up and went back to mine and picked up a large rock. She returned to the stain on the pier and placed the rock next to it.

“What is she doing?” Donaldson asked.

Tindall nodded his head in Kimberly’s direction. “She’s marking evidence, evidence of a homicide.”

  • * * * * *

Chapter Thirty-One

Bradner picked up the phone. “Hansen Realty.”

“It’s me,” the voice at the other end stated.

“Yeah, I know. Caller ID showed an unknown number. I figured it was you. So, what do you want?”

“To tell you that the police are out at the mine. I hope you didn’t leave anything back there at the lab.”

Bradner’s palm started sweating. He didn’t realize it until he noticed his entire body was sweating. “Don’t worry. I got rid of anything that could link us to that lab.”

“We’re shutting down operations for a while.”

“Maybe it should be shut down for good,” Bradner replied. “Ever since those two college kids were killed, there’s been a lot of interest in what’s going on out at that lake.”

“It’s your fault. If you and your wife weren’t trying to hump every college student going through the program, Carlsen’s kid wouldn’t have been up there.”

“Don’t blame me,” Bradner shouted. “If your goons hadn’t killed that other kid, none of this would be happening.”

“It happened. Deal with it.”

“What if the police discover what is really in that mine?”

“Then we’re screwed out of millions of dollars,” the voice answered. “Shouldn’t be a problem. The police are interested in the drug operation, nothing else. Hell, even those kids making the stuff in the mine had no idea what was in that mine.”

“There still are those two killings?” Bradner said. “I heard there’s a chance that damn attorney may get Wild Mike off.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll make sure any evidence found out there implicates that mad man.”

“How are you going to do that?” Bradner asked.

“I have an ace up my sleeve. I’ll have no trouble getting evidence to hang that wild man.”

  • * * * * *

Kimberly watched as the forensics team collected samples from the dock. They had already confirmed it was blood, but it would require further analysis before they could tell Kimberly anything more. Tindall came up and joined Kimberly. She didn’t like him looking over her shoulder.

“I’ve got this,” Kimberly said. “I’ve been through enough homicide investigations to know what to do.”

Tindall popped a breath mint into his mouth. “Never doubted it for a minute. Talked to Thom. He’s towing the boat over here to make it easier for forensics to go over it. But my question is where are those two patrol officers who are supposed to be helping us?”

“They’re in the mine. They’re tagging some of the evidence, the stuff that doesn’t require any lab work. Mostly lab equipment, papers, discarded trash of material used in making drugs, etc.”

“Not any more,” an excited Struckman said as she hurried over to the detectives. Donaldson was right behind her.

“It’s not evidence,” Donaldson said while catching his breath. “It has nothing to do with the drugs or the homicides. Besides, we found it, we should be able to keep it. I mean, this mine’s been abandoned for years. Anything we find we can keep.”

“That depends,” Tindall answered. “If it’s an animal that bites, then it’s all yours. But if it’s anything else, then we need to take a look at it.”

“It’s gold,” Struckman shouted. “I’m telling you I found gold in there.” She held out her hand with several small shiny rocks in it.

“We found it,” Donaldson added. “And we both get to claim the mine as ours.”

Tindall laughed. “First of all, I’m not sure the mine is abandoned. I know it shut down years ago, but the company that ran it may still own it. Second, shiny rocks are cool, but how do you know what you’re holding is gold?”

“I’m a woman,” Struckman proudly stated. “And a woman knows gold when she sees it.”

Kimberly shrugged her shoulders. “Don’t look at me. I’m not going to argue with her.”

“Fine,” Tindall conceded. He turned to the two patrol officers. “You get to bag it and tag it. We’ll have a lab determine if it’s gold or not. As for filing a claim and becoming gold miners, let’s first check to see who does own this property. If nobody owns it, then you have my permission and blessing on becoming gold miners.”

“You mean it,” Donaldson asked. “Are we really entitled to the mine?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Tindall answered. “But Detective Simmons here knows a lawyer, and I’m sure she can get him to give you legal advice.”

Struckman and Donaldson turned to face each other. “We’re going to be rich,” they both exclaimed.

  • * * * * *

Justin looked at the clock again.

“It ain’t going to go any faster,” Wendy said. “You’ve been watching that clock more closely than my dog watches me when I’m cooking bacon. It takes time to process a crime scene and collect evidence, especially if it’s spread out over a large area.”

“Time,” an aggravated Justin loudly stated. “It’s almost four o’clock. They’ve been out there for hours. They should be back by now with the evidence we need to prove Mike is innocent.”

Wendy stared at Justin. “You really had too many donuts and too much coffee today. What you need to do go have a couple of drinks to calm down.”

“Drinks?” Kimberly said as she entered the office. She faced Justin. “Sounds like a great idea. In fact, I’m going to let you take me out, buy me drinks and dinner. And if you’re real nice, I’ll tell you what we found out there at the mine.”

Wendy got up from her desk and handed Justin a small notepad. “Take notes. I want to hear all about your date when you come in tomorrow.”

“It’s not a date,” Justin firmly stated.

“What?” Kimberly said with fake surprise. “You don’t want a good night kiss?”

  • * * * * *

The green tee shirt with yellow flowers greeted Justin as he entered the Cactus Rose Saloon. A pretty, young woman wearing one of the tee shirts and a name tag identifying her as Diana grabbed a menu and motioned for Justin to follow her. He cheerfully obeyed. The attractive waitress led Justin to a table and placed the menu on the table across from where Kimberly was sitting.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Justin said as he sat down.

“Hey, great minds think alike,” Kimberly answered. “It doesn’t explain why you’re here, but I can live with it.”

Justin picked up the menu. “Ha, ha. So why did you want to meet for dinner?”

“I’m hungry, and you want to know what we found at the mine.”

“Yes,” Justin said putting away the menu. “What did you find? Was there evidence to clear Mike?”

“Well, that was quick,” Diana said as she set a glass of water down in front of Justin. “So, what would you like?”

Justin faced the waitress. “Pardon?”

“Aren’t you ready to order? I saw you put the menu down.”

“I’ll order for the both of us,” Kimberly said coming to the rescue of an unprepared Justin. “Two long necks, Corona if you have them. An order of chicken fahitas an order of Cactus Rose fries, some fish tacos.”

“Is that all?” Diana asked.

“I’m sure it’ll be enough for the two of us,” Kimberly replied.

“Is this separate checks?”

Kimberly waved her hand. “Of course not. It’s on one check, and the gentleman is paying.”

Diana gave Kimberly a smile and a wink before gathering the menus and leaving with their orders. Justin leaned forward and tapped the table. “Tell me, what did you find?”

“My goodness, you’re impatient. We haven’t even gotten our drinks.”

“Quit playing games with me,” Justin demanded. “I want to know what you found out there.”

Kimberly glared at Justin. “I’m not playing games. The reason I wanted to see you tonight is to tell you what we discovered. Just give me a couple of minutes to get my thoughts together. You can do that, can’t you?”

“Yeah, sure,” Justin softly replied as he leaned back in his chair.

“Why don’t you tell me what you did today,” Kimberly suggested. “Maybe I can provide some insight to help you.”

“I spent the day going crazy. There are some things that just don’t make sense to me. For example, there are three docks out at the lake, and each one has a road leading to it. So why use a boat? Why take it from one dock to another? Then there is the question of who drove Paul Campbell’s car back to the university after he was killed, or was he killed at the university and they dragged his body out to the lake? Why take that risk? There are plenty of place to dump a body between the university and the lake.”

Diana returned with their beers. She gave Kimberly another smile before leaving.

Justin motioned towards the waitress with his thumb. “Does she have the hots for you or something?”

Kimberly chuckled. “You’re not very observant, are you? You didn’t notice the engagement ring she was wearing?”

“Probably a fake to scare off the guys so that she doesn’t have to deal with being hit on.”

“Trust me. A ring is not going to stop some guys from trying to chat her up and get her phone number.”

“Okay, what does it mean?” Justin asked.

“It means she’ll be at my mother’s shop tomorrow giving her all the juicy details of our rendezvous. I bet my mother will so happy she’ll give our waitress a discount.”

“Tell the waitress ‘Mazel Tov’.”

Kimberly took a sip of her beer. “I’ll be sure to tell her. Now, do you want to know what we found at the mine?’

“Of course.”

Kimberly took another sip of her beer. “Naturally, we found lots of evidence of drug manufacturing. The lab will need to complete their tests before we know exactly what they were producing, but I think it was fentanyl or maybe heroin. But I also found a possible blood stain on the dock. Forensic took some samples and they will try to get DNA. Maybe we can match it to either Paul Campbell or Raymond Carlsen. Thom brought a boat over for the lab guys to go over. Thom thinks it was the boat we saw last night. They got a lot of prints and trace evidence; but the boat has public access, so I doubt anything found will be of any real use. But here is the really interesting thing.”

“What?” Justin could tell Kimberly enjoyed teasing him.

“The stuff dreams are made of,” Kimberly replied. “We have to wait until the lab can analyze the rocks collected, but we may have found gold out there. If true, that mine can make someone very rich.”

Justin took a swig from his bottle. “And a possible motive for murder.”

  • * * * * *

Chapter Thirty-Two

“Have some cake!” the owner of the shop shouted as Justin entered.

“Morning, Justin,” Kimberly said to the confused Justin as she poured him a cup of coffee. “You remember my mother, Rhonda Simmons, the owner of this shop.”

Justin took the coffee from Kimberly. “What’s with the cake? Are you celebrating something?”

“You didn’t hear?” Rhonda exclaimed with glee. “Some fool found gold in the old mine at Misty Lake.”

“Yeah, I heard about that. But how did you hear about it?”

Rhonda giggled. “This is rumor central for the county. Nothing goes on without us knowing it. We have more gossip here than cow pies in a pasture full of heifers.”

“And most of it is bull. . .”

“Now mind your mouth Kimberly,” Rhonda commanded. She turned to Justin. “It doesn’t matter how true it is, as long as it’s entertaining.”

Justin took a sip of coffee. “What if the rumors are harmful?”

Rhonda patted Justin’s hand. “They can be, but most of us know when to look to the source instead of the rumor. We do care about the people here and if it’s a lie, we pretty much know it from the get go.”

“But the story of the gold? How did it get out so fast? They just found it yesterday.”

Kimberly waved her hand to the outside of the shop. “The lab doing the assay has a receptionist who can’t keep a secret.”

“So, you’re celebrating because it means the mine will open back up?” Justin asked.

Rhonda giggled again. “Of course not. Those of us who have been here when the mine was running know all about the gold in there.”

A confused Justin stared at Rhonda. “You mean there has always been gold up there?”

“No, no,” Rhonda stated. “When the mine was closing down some twenty or so years ago, one guy got the idea if they found gold there, they would keep the mine open. He loaded some buckshot shells with gold he melted down from somewhere, probably old jewelry. He went up there and shot the shells off in various places in the mine. At first, everyone was excited about the gold until one of assayers noticed how pure it was. Then he noticed all the gold was about the same size and quality. Sure enough, when he started questioning the gold strike, a mining engineer went up there and discovered the truth. It didn’t take long before the town found out who planted the gold. They were kind of upset with the guy who planted the gold for getting their hopes up, but they forgave him when they realized why he had done it.”

“Do you know who did it?” Justin asked.

“Of course,” Rhonda replied. “But he passed on years ago.”

“What about his family?”

“Moved on after the man’s death,” Rhonda answered. “The son enlisted in the Air Force. I heard the widow got remarried.”

“That means they have nothing to do with the mine or whatever gold is up there,” Justin stated.

“That’s right,” Kimberly acknowledged.

“So those two who discovered the gold aren’t going to be rich?”

“The man is on roll,” Kimberly answered smiling. “My partner, Detective Tindall, knows that. That’s why he was willing to let the two patrol officers who found the gold guard the place. I’m sure they are making sure no one goes into the mine.”

“Won’t they be disappointed when they find out the truth?” Justin asked.

Kimberly nodded. “We’ll let them keep what they found, which is probably worth a few hundred dollars. Of course, we’ll treat them to some beers and harassment at the Cactus Rose Saloon. But I’m sure they’ll get over it.”

Justin gave Kimberly and Rhonda a confused look. “So why are you celebrating? There’s no gold, we still have unsolved homicides, my client is still on trial, and we don’t know who set up the drug lab in the mine.”

Rhonda cut a large piece of cake and put it on a plate. She placed a fork on the plate before giving it to Justin. “We’re having fun and even if the gold strike is a bust, it’s a good excuse to have cake. Here, now have a piece.”

Justin put down his coffee and accepted the cake. “By any chance is there something I should celebrating?”

Kimberly grinned. “It’s only a matter of time before we have the evidence, but we do know who is responsible of the lab up there.”

“Do know who killed Carlsen and Campbell?”

“Maybe,” Kimberly answered teasingly.

Justin’s phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and answered it.

“Come into the office,” Wendy, who was on the other end demanded. “I got something to show you. I think I figured out how those two boys were killed.”

  • * * * * *

Justin could tell Wendy was happy to see him. The problem was why. It could be because Kimberly was with him, and Wendy was hoping to hear about their adventure last night. It could be because she was excited to tell him what she had discovered. However, Justin was inclined to believe it was because he brought her a large piece of cake from Rhonda’s shop. The give me demand Wendy uttered upon Justin’s entrance was the clue that gave it away.

Justin sat down behind his desk after handing Wendy the cake. Kimberly leaned on the front of Justin’s desk, giving the white board in the office her full attention.

“You’ve been busy,” Justin said, motioning toward the white board.

“You bet your sweet patuti,” Wendy replied with a mouthful of cake.

“Does anyone say that anymore,” Kimberly asked.

Justin waved toward Wendy. “She does.”

Wendy pointed her fork at Kimberly. “You got a problem with that?”

Kimberly shook her head. “What is this you have on the white board?”

“How the crime was committed,” Wendy answered. She set down her plate and walked to the white board. “I think I figured out the sequence of events. First, Paul Campbell goes out to Misty Lake and takes some water samples. He comes across the drug lab that you and Justin found the other day. The people running the lab catch him and beat him to death. They take him out in a boat, weigh the body down, and dump him in the lake. But Raymond Carlsen sees this. The drug guys chase him down and kill him. They take him out into the lake and dump his body. Then they push Carlsen’s car into the lake.”

“Okay,” Kimberly replied. “But there are still several questions. First, why didn’t they dump Campbell’s car in the lake? Why drive it back to the college? What is with the boats and the drug lab? It would be easier to run the drugs out by car than take them someplace on the lake and transfer them to a car. Also, if they thought about weighing down Campbell’s body, why didn’t they do it with Carlsen’s? Then there is who made the phone call alerting us to a dead body on the shore of the lake?”

Wendy smiled. “I’ve got the answers to those questions.” Wendy pointed to a rough map she had drawn on the white board. “Paul Campbell’s homicide was done by the guys running the drug lab. They probably reacted without really thinking about the consequences. I believe there is another individual involve, a kind of Mr. Big, so to speak. When he realized they had killed Campbell, he took Campbell’s car. But before he left, they found Raymond Carlsen. He couldn’t drive two cars back, so they pushed Carlsen’s car into the lake. Now, Mr. Big has a second dead body, but this one has no connection with the lake. If he can get the police to focus on him, they won’t notice Campbell is missing. So, he calls the police about a body at the lake. It gets even better because he sees or hears Mike Richards go into the water to get the body. He is able to direct the police to the exact location, catching our client with a dead body.”

“What about the boats?” Justin added. “Why use the boats for the drug operation?”

Wendy pointed to Justin and winked. “Two reasons. One is vanity. They didn’t want to scratch up their own cars. Second is in case someone noticed them coming from the lake. If it was from the marina, people wouldn’t think much of it. But it there was traffic from the old mine road, which has been closed down for almost a quarter of a century, people would notice. They simply didn’t want to attract too much attention.”

Justin nodded his head in agreement. “Okay. This all makes sense, and it’s a plausible explanation of events. But who is Mr. Big?”

Wendy chuckled. “Why it’s obvious. He’s the person who came out with Paul Campbell that night to the lake.”

  • * * * * *

Chapter Thirty-Three

Justin turned to Kimberly. “Didn’t you say you knew who ran the drug lab, our Mr. Big?”

“Not quite. We think we have a lead on who it is. But we still need to find evidence to tie him to the drug lab.”

“No buts! He’s responsible for the deaths of two people and my client being in jail.”

“More importantly,” Wendy added, “he’s the one who is responsible for all of the problems with the water and the fish dying out at the lake.”

Justin put his face in his hands. He dropped his hands and looked to Kimberly. “Who is this person and how do we find the evidence to clear Mike Richards?”

“We go back to High Road,” Kimberly answered. “We follow the money, and in this town, they are the only ones who have enough money to cause this much trouble.”

  • * * * * *

“We have a full house today,” Tindall informed Justin and Kimberly as they entered the detectives’ offices. “I’ve got all three of our guests in a separate interview room, and they are all demanding a lawyer.”

“Well, I am a defense attorney,” Justin stated.

Kimberly scoffed. “One with a conflict of interest.”

“Not a problem,” a voice responded. The three of them turned to see a petit woman of Asian ancestry. “Hey Justin,” she said.

“Morning Becky,” Justin replied.

The Asian woman extended her hand to Tindall. “I’m Rebecca Ling from the Public Defender’s Office. You called for an attorney for some people you have in custody. May I see the arrest report?”

Tindall shook the woman’s hand. “They haven’t been charged with anything. But they are persons of interest in two homicides and possible drug manufacturing. Here are the reports on both cases, Ms. Ling.”

“Please call me Becky. If you’re referring to the two homicides out at Misty Lake, I’m familiar with them. As for the drug charge, what evidence do you have connection these people to the drugs?”

“Circumstantial,” Tindall answered.

“Means you’re fishing. Since my clients haven’t been charged with anything, they should be released immediately.”

“Of course,” Tindall responded. “If you will follow me, you can talk to each one of them before we release them.”

  • * * * * *

Ling followed Tindall to the first interview room. Kimberly and Justin went into the observation room to watch on the cameral monitors.

“It’s about time,” Adam Lingenfleter yelled as Ling and Tindall entered the room. “I have rights. You have no right to hold me here. I haven’t done anything.”

“I’m Rebecca Ling from the Public Defender’s Office.”

“I don’t care who you are. I’m not making any statement. I’m a lawyer and I know my rights.”

Tindall closed the door to the room and motioned for Adam to sit down. “Since you know your rights, you know you have the right to remain silent. So, please shut up and listen to Ms. Ling.”

Adam sat down. Ling and Tindall took seats across the table from him. “As I stated before, I’m with the Public Defender’s Office. Detective Tindall informs me you have not been charged with anything; but you are a person of interest in a couple of ongoing investigations. As your attorney, I recommend you make no statement concerning these investigations.”

“He’s got nothing,” Adam yelled, pointing his finger at Tindall. “I didn’t kill those two kids and I’ve got nothing to do with that drug lab in the mine.”

Ling let out a heavy sigh.

Tindall grinned. “I didn’t tell you why you were here. How did you know I was going to ask about the homicides at Misty Lake, especially since Mike Richards has been charged with them both?”

Ling held up her hand. “Don’t answer that or any questions.”

“Why not?” Adam demanded. “I had nothing to do with those killings.”

“Then why do you think I’m going to question you about them then?” Tindall asked.

“Of course, you’re going to ask about them,” Adam shouted before Ling could quiet him. “You think that homeless guy is innocent. He’s nuts. He’s always watching everything with those crazy binoculars of his. There isn’t a thing that takes place on that lake he doesn’t know about. But I can tell you I didn’t have anything to do with killing those two kids. I wasn’t even at the lake when they were killed.”

“Mr. Lingenfleter, please refrain making any statements,” Ling pleaded

“Oh, shut up. I’m a lawyer and I know what I’m doing.”

Ling leaned over and whispered in Tindall’s ear. “I’m his attorney, so I can’t tell you to hang the son of a bitch. But I can tell you I won’t be crying when they put the rope on him.”

Tindall chuckled. “Forget about the two homicides. What can you tell me about the drugs?”

Ling held up her hand. “I really should confer with my client before he answers any more questions.”

“Nothing,” Adam shouted. “I have no connection to that drug lab in the mine. I don’t who is running it and I have nothing to do with them selling any drugs on campus.”

Ling got up and collected her things before facing Adam. “Mr. Lingenfleter. I told you not to make any statements, but you failed to heed my advice. I refuse to act as your attorney any longer. However, whoever you do hire in the future, listen to that person.”

“This is privileged communication,” Adam insisted. “You can’t repeat anything I told you.”

Tindall chuckled and leaned forward on the table. “Mr. Lingenfleter, you’re an idiot. Anything you said in this room, in front of a police officer, is not privilege communication. While Ms. Ling won’t say anything, the recording of our interview is admissible in court.”

Ling smiled at Adam. “Mr. Lingenfleter. It’s your turn to shut up.”

  • * * * * *

Tindall noticed the confused look on Nicole Welsh’s face when he and Ling entered the interview room. “Good morning,” he said as he sat down across from Nicole.

“Why am I here?” Nicole asked with hostility. “I came down here of my own free will to answer some questions you had, and I am kept waiting for more than an hour. What kind of operation are you running here?”

 “Sorry about that,” Tindall answered. “But there were some things we needed to check out before I could talk to you. I’m sorry it took longer than I expected. By the way, this is Ms. Ling with the Public Defender’s Office.

Nicole nodded to Ling. “Nice to meet you.” Nicole turned to Tindall. “Why do you think I need a lawyer?”

 “She’s here to make sure I don’t overstep my authority. I would like to ask you a few questions to clear up a few things.”


“First, why was Raymond Carlsen out at the lake? Was he out there to see you?”

“I’ve told you before. No. I don’t know why Raymond was out at the lake.”

Tindall wrote down Nicole’s response. “When was the last time you saw him?”

“The day he was killed. I saw him at the office.”

Tindall made another note. “What can you tell me about the day he was killed?”

“Again. Nothing.”

Tindall put down his pen and clasped his hands in front of him. “Really? Nothing? With all the flashing blue lights, all the activity at the lake, and the prime suspect being arrested in a boat house less than a hundred feet from your house; and you saw nothing?”

Nicole leaned toward Tindall. “Nothing.”

Tindall picked up his pen and began tapping it on the notepad in front of him. “What can you tell me about mine at Misty Lake?”

Ling started to say something, but Nicole put up her hand. “So, that’s what this is about?” Nicole replied with a chuckle. “You think I had something to do with that drug operation up there at the lake. Well, I didn’t.”

Tindall gave Nicole a slight nod. “Can you explain why your office is representing your husband in the purchase of the old mine? Certainly, someone from your office would have gone out there to check the place out. Someone like a student intern.”

Nicole stood up before Ling would say anything. “Unless I’m under arrest, I’ll be leaving now. I’m not going to answer any more of your questions without an attorney.”

“That’s why Ms. Ling is here,” Tindall resplied.

Nicole grabbed her purse. “Am I under arrest?”


“Then goodbye.”

Tindall waited until she left the room before he and Ling got up from the table.

  • * * * * *

Ava Shimley was sitting with her eyes closed and her arms crossed when Tindall and Ling entered the room. Ava opened her eyes when she heard the door close.

“Hope we aren’t disturbing you,” Tindall said as he and Ling took their seats across the table from Ava.

“Not at all,” she replied. “I was just mellowing out. No need to get stressed just because I’m in a police station. But I’m sure you’re going to explain everything to me.”

Tindall gestured to Ling. “This is Rebecca Ling. She’s with the Public Defenders’ Office. She’s here as a courtesy to ensure we don’t violate your rights.”

Ava nodded toward Ling. “Nice to meet you. Thank you for coming down. I didn’t realize I was under arrest, especially since I haven’t committed any crime.”

“Nothing like that,” Ling replied. “You’re not under arrest, but Detective Tindall felt you might wish to have legal counsel during any interviews. I will caution you against making any statement that might incriminate you.”

“She’s right,” Tindall added. “You’re not under arrest. We’re, the police, are hoping you can provide us with some information that might help us with some of our investigations.”

Ava uncrossed her arms and leaned forward on the table. “If these investigations have to do with the two murders out at the lake or any drugs being sold out there, I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

“I check the county records,” Tindall said. “Turns out you own the old mine out at Misty Lake.”

“I guess so,” Ava replied. “It belonged to my late husband, Charles. But it was closed down long before I met him. Of course, I inherited it, but I haven’t done anything with it. I think I’ve been once, with Charles, just to see what it was; but that was years ago.”

“So you had nothing to do with the drug lab that was set up there?”

“You don’t need to answer that,” Ling stated.

“It’s quite all right,” Ava said as she waved a hand to dismiss Ling’s advice. “The answer is no. I have no idea of what was going on there until I was asked to come to the police station this morning.”

Tindall nodded. “What are you going to do with the mine?”

“Why? Nothing.”

Tindall took a quick look at a piece of paper in the file he had brought in. “According to the records, that mine is surrounded by several hundred acres of forest. That’s a lot of trees.”

Ava took a deep breath. “Are you saying it’s illegal to own land in this county. So I haven’t tried to develop it. Maybe I’m a nature lover and want to use it as a wildlife preserve. The deer and antelope need a place to live.”

“Well that explains the ‘No Hunting’ and ‘No Trespassing’ signs posted out there,” Tindall said. “But can you tell me why there was a land survey of the property last month?”

Ava smiled. “I can tell you it had nothing to do the killing of those two boys or any drugs out there. Anything else is private, and I don’t wish to share the details with the police, which makes it a public record.”

“The land survey is a public record,” Tindall commented.

“Yes, but not the reason,” said Ava.

Tindall glance over to Ling, who shrugged her shoulders. “Thank you for coming in Ms. Shimley. I’ll have a patrol officer show you the way out. Appreciate you coming down.”

“Not at all,” Ave replied. “Always happy to help the police.”

  • * * * * *

Justin sat alone in his office. He was frustrated at the lack of progress after the day of listening in on interviews at the police station and reviewing the evidence. This case made him feel like he was baking a cake with twenty items, but needing only four. There were too many things going on. He stared at the white board and all of the notes Wendy had made on it. It made sense, and at the same time, it didn’t. It seemed there were too many coincidences, too many things happening at once, too many questions. Justin continued to stare at the board. The notes on it began to float around in his mind, rearranging themselves in one way, then another. Justin grabbed a pencil and started making notes. Wendy was right, but she had gotten the facts wrong. Justin had an idea of exactly what had happened.

  • * * * * *

Chapter Thirty-Four

The pounding on her apartment door woke Kimberly up. She glanced at the clock. It was almost eleven o’clock in the evening. She got out of bed, dressed in a tee shirt and gym shorts. She never had been the type of woman who wore frilly nightgowns. She reached for her service weapon, chambered a round, and approached the front door, where the person was still pounding on it. She made sure not to turn on a light.

“Who is it?” she demanded as she stood to one side of the door, her weapon in her hand.

“It’s me, Justin.”

Kimberly took a quick look through the peephole to confirm the person’s identity. “It’s late! What do you want?”

“I need to ask you some questions.”

“Can’t this wait until tomorrow?”

“No. Now please open the door.”

Kimberly unlocked the door and opened it. “You’re waking up the entire apartment building. What is so important that it can’t wait until tomorrow, or at least until I’ve had some coffee.”

Justin rushed in, turned to face Kimberly as she closed the door. “We’ve been looking at this all wrong.”

Kimberly held up her weapon, and showed it to Justin. “You mean some man pounding on my door, demanding me to let him in so the neighbors think he’s sleeping with me. You’re right. It’s all wrong.”

“No, no. I don’t want to sleep with you.”

“You don’t! Well, thanks a lot. So, what do you want this late at night?”

“I need to check some facts.”

Kimberly cleared her weapon and returned it to her bedroom. She came out and motioned for Justin to take a seat at the kitchen table. She went to her refrigerator and returned with two beers. She gave one to Justin before taking a seat. Justin accepted the beer and raised it in a mock toast to Kimberly.

“So tell me what facts have you uncovered,” Kimberly said.

“Nothing new,” Justin replied. “I just rearranged them.”

“Go on.”

“On the night you arrested Mike Richards, you were the only one at the dock below High Road. Why is that?”

“I wasn’t. I was the first one at the dock on High Road. A unit was on its way to back me up. It simply hadn’t arrived before I took Wild Mike into custody.”

“Okay. But the unit that did arrive was the same unit that originally called in about the body on the lake’s shore.”

“That’s correct.”

“Isn’t that strange? I would think they would be too busy to come to your assistance. I would expect another unit to respond to your request.”

Kimberly took a slow sip from her beer. “Now that you mention it, it is unusual. I had assumed they simple returned to their patrol vehicle and was the closest unit when I asked for prisoner transport.”

“But there were other units in the area?”

“Yes, but when I saw them, they were all helping Steve, Detective Tindall, the crime scene.”

“Who were the patrol officers who responded to your call?”

“Officers Rucker and Davis. You know this. You questioned them in court.”

“That’s right. Do you remember their testimony? Rucker said he got the call about a body when Davis was in a convenience store picking up some snacks.”

“Okay. Unless you have a problem with patrol officers stopping at convenience stores, what’s the problem?”

“Officer Rucker also stated he volunteered to help with the search of Mike’s campsite, and he had Officer Davis come with him.”

“Still not seeing a problem.”

“Who discovered the victim’s wallet and cell phone?”

“I believe it was Davis.”

“That’s right,” Justin confirmed. “But he was searching the area with Rucker.”

Kimberly took a deep breath. “You seem to have a thing against these two officers.”

Justin put up his hands in front of him, with his palms facing Kimberly. “Wait, let me tell you what I think. We assumed that Paul Campbell was killed, Raymond Carlsen saw it, and he was killed, and somehow Mike was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“But you have a different theory.”

“What if the goal was to frame Mike for the murder of Raymond Carlsen?”

Kimberly glared at Justin. “I’m going to recommend you get a drug test. I don’t need to remind you that certain drugs are illegal.”

“I’m not taking drugs, and I’m not crazy.”

“The jury is still out on that.”

“Mike Richards lived out at the lake. He knew everything that was going on out there, including the drug lab and trafficking. He knew it was poisoning the lake and killing the fish.”

“So was that other kid, Paul Campbell.”

“I’ll get to him later. Let’s say whoever was running the drugs needed to get rid of Mike. Getting him into a mental facility is virtually impossible; they are too full and Mike wasn’t crazy enough. So they had to get him arrested and put in prison.”

Kimberly waved her hand signaling disagreement. “Too difficult. You had to arrange motive, opportunity, and means; as well as having a witness to call it in and the unit arriving in time to see Mike. Too many moving parts and too easy to screw up.”

“The motive and opportunity was easy. All they had to do was get Raymond Carlsen out to Misty Lake. They would beat him up, killing him. Then take the body to a cove near where Mike was camped. Make some noise. Once they were sure he was on the shore, dump the body overboard. They then went around the bend, just far enough where they couldn’t be seen from the shoreline, but they could see if Mike came out to get the body. Then they called the police; although I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t call either Rucker or Davis directly. Once they got there, they would call it in, and catch Mike with the body.”

“What about the evidence found at Mike’s campsite and the dumping of Carlsen’s car in the lake?”

“The same people who killed Carlsen would push his car into the lake, probably before dumping his body in the lake. As for planting the evidence, couldn’t Rucker of Davis planted it when you were searching Mike’s campsite?”

“Okay. For the sake of argument, let’s say things happened the way you said. How do you explain Paul Campbell’s death, his car being found at the campus, and boats being used from the marina?”

“We assumed Raymond Carlsen saw Paul Campbell murdered and that’s why he was killed. What if it was the other way around? What if Paul Campbell saw Raymond Carlsen killed?”

Kimberly took a moment to think about it. “Okay. But it doesn’t explain Campbell’s car being taken from the lake to the campus and the people using the marina’s boats.”

Justin smiled and took a long pull from his beer. “If Paul Campbell was the second murder, it would explain why his body was weighed down. They wanted the police to focus on Raymond Carlsen. He was the son of Phillip Carlsen, a state senator. They didn’t want Campbell’s body found. When it was, the forces behind Mike’s arrest, made sure he was charged with that murder too.”

“Are you saying the prosecutor’s office is behind all this?”

“No. But I’m sure Phillip Carlsen is encouraging Connor Arnott in prosecuting Mike. But the real killers are someone else entirely.”

“Let me guess. It’s the person who drove Paul Campbell’s car back to the university.”

“You are correct,” Justin said with satisfaction.

“We still have the boats.”

“You arrested Mike at the dock below High Road, correct?”


“How many boats were there at that dock?”

Kimberly smiled. “None.”

“So you agree with me?” Justin asked.

“Not necessarily. We still need to prove it. Hopefully, forensics will come up something to support your theory. In the meantime, you go home and get some sleep. We’re going to have a busy day tomorrow.”

Justin finished his beer. “Thanks for listening. Sorry about the late hour.”

“No problem,” Kimberly said as she led Justin to the apartment door, opened it, and moved him outside. She stepped out, turned Justin around and gave him a kiss.

“What was that for?” Justin asked.

Kimberly stepped back and placed her hand on Justin chest. “Wanted to give the neighbors something to talk about.” Justin gave her a confused look as she closed the door.

  • * * * * *

Chapter Thirty-Five

“You messed with my board!” Wendy bellowed as Justin stepped into the office. “After all that work, you go and mess everything up. What’s gotten into you?”

“Hey, good morning to you too. Yes, I’m doing fine. How about you?”

“Pissed. You messed up my board. I spent hours figuring out what happened and you messed it up.”

“Because it’s all wrong.”

“What,” Wendy yelled. “How can you say that?”

“Simple,” Justin replied. “The patrol unit said they were dispatched to the scene because the call saw someone on the shore of the lake with a body. Yet, Mike stated he had just gotten the body to shore when the police showed up.”

“Mike could be mistaken, or lying.”

Justin waved his finger in admonishment. “No, he wasn’t. If he had killed Carlsen, he would have never dragged the body out of the water. Once he realized Carlsen was dead, he would have left, either to hide or call the authorities. Either way, he would not have been there on the shore line.”

Wendy waved her hand in disagreement. “Between when the patrol unit got the call and the time they arrived on the scene is only six minutes.”

“Exactly,” Justin exclaimed. “But the patrol officer stated they were at a convenience store on Powell Avenue when they got the call. At that time of night, it would have taken the patrol unit at least fifteen minutes to get to the lake.”

Wendy made a teepee with her hand and held up her index fingers. “You know, we never did check the radio log or the 9-1-1 tapes to see when that call was made.”

“Exactly,” Justin responded.

“So you’re thinking the call was made to one of the patrol officers directly?”


“But why?”

Justin gestured to Wendy. “I think it has something to do with the mine.”

“Ava Shimley owes the mine. Charles Shimley owned it, but when he died, everything went to his new wife, Ava. But why would she want to kill Raymond Carlsen or Paul Campbell?”

“I don’t think she wanted to kill anyone,” Justin answered. “I think someone is interested in that mine and those two kids were in the way.”

“So how does our client fit into all of this?”

“That’s what we need to find out, if we are going to prove he’s innocent.’

  • * * * * *

Tindall was scrolling through the messages on his cell phone. “Think he’ll show up,” Tindall asked without looking up from his phone.

“He had better,” Kimberly answered before taking a sip of coffee from her travel mug. She continued to look out on the marina parking lot while leaning against the rear fender of their car.

“We really don’t need him,” Tindall said. He remained focused on his cell phone. “In fact, we really shouldn’t be trying to help the defense team. We’re supposed to be working for the DA.”

Kimberly glared at Tindall. “I thought we were working for the people. Besides, the DA is a jerk.”

Tindall turned off his phone and looked at Kimberly. “Can’t argue with that. Still, I don’t see what you hope to accomplish by coming out here to the lake again.”

Kimberly waved her travel mug in the direction of the parking lot. “Well here come Justin, and he’s the one who wanted to come here. So, let’s ask him what he hope to find out here.”

Kimberly and Tindall watched as Justin parked his car. He got out and went to the trunk to retrieve several plastic bags, a flashlight, and other items.

Tindall chuckled as Justin approach him. “What have you got there counselor?”

“Everything I need to collect evidence to prove my client innocent.”

Tindall turned and pressed the key to release the trunk latch of the car Kimberly was leaning on. He pulled out a crime scene processing kit. “We’ll process any evidence discovered. Need to make use everything is legal.”

“Fine,” Justin replied. “Let’s get going.”

“To where?” Kimberly asked.

“Remember last night I told you that someone wanted to frame Mike Richards for the murder of Raymond Carlsen. And that Paul Campbell was killed because he found out about the murder.”

“Still haven’t told us where you want to go,” Tindall interjected.

“Right,” Justin answered. “First, we need to go to Mike’s campsite.”

  • * * * * *

Justin was surprised to see Mike’s campsite was deserted, all of his personal possessions were removed. “What happened to all of his stuff?”

“Richards’ wife, along with a couple of veterans, came out and packed everything up,” Tindall answered. “I came out here and made sure nothing of any evidential value was taken. Turned out it was all personal belongings, mostly clothes, bedding, etc.”

“Was there any rope?” Justin asked.

“There was a lot of parachute cord, the kind you see in survival stores,” Tindall replied.

Justin held up a small piece of blue and white rope. “Was there any rope that looked like this?”

Tindall shook his head. “Nope.”

“You’re sure,” Justin insisted.

Tindall glared at Justin. “I’m positive. I would remember if there was.”

“Why?” Justin demanded.

Tindall looked over at Kimberly. “Remind your boyfriend that I would have remembered because that is the same kind of rope that was used to tie Paul Campbell to the weights used to weigh him down in the lake.”

Kimberly took a sip from her travel mug. “He’s not my boyfriend.” She turned to Justin. “But Steve’s right. We would have noticed if the same kind of rope was found here.”

Justin took another look around. “Then I guess we’re done here.”

  • * * * * *

It took them almost an hour to walk back to the marina parking lot and drive to the mine. Justin’s Honda scraped the road several times. He hoped he hadn’t broken anything coming out here.

“Let’s do this the easy way,” Tindall said after they had gotten out of their cars. “Let’s start at the back of the mine and work our way forward. That way if we find something, no one can complain about it how it was recovered.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Kimberly replied.

Justin gestured he agreed.

With three flashlights lighting the way, they made their way to the back of the mine to a point where spider webs and dust provided evidence no one had ventured beyond for several years. Slowly, the three flashlight beams glided over the floor of the mine and up the walls as the two detectives and one attorney backed their way toward the entrance. Twenty minutes of painstaking progress stopped as Tindall place the portable evidence kit on the ground. He placed an evidence marker next to several pieces of blue and white thread. He made sure to photograph them before the three individuals continued their search. Less than a minute later, Tindall found additional pieces of blue and white thread. He documented their location as with the first. The process was repeated when Kimberly discovered a piece of blue and white rope. The search continued until they reached the mine’s entrance. Kimberly and Tindall went back into the mine to complete the required documentation of all the newly found evidence. Justin waited on the pier, looking out over the lake until the detectives had finished.

“Discover anything,” Kimberly asked as she approached Justin.

Justin pointed to the water below the pier. “Just several dead fish.”

“They probably dumped chemicals into the water. It’s not like drug dealers care about the environment.”

“What about the rope and threads found in the mine?”

Kimberly picked up a small stone and threw it into the water. “Looks like the rope used to tie down Paul Campbell came from here. Still need to get forensics to check it out, but I’m fairly sure.”

“It proves my point,” Justin said. “Mike Richards is innocent.”

“It proves nothing,” Tindall stated as he joined Justin and Kimberly.

“Yes, it does,” Justin argued. “It proves whoever killed Paul Campbell did it here.”

“And if that is the case?” Tindall questioned.

Justin took a deep breath before answering. “Then the real killer is out here, and may kill again.”

  • * * * * *

Chapter Thirty-Six

“Court is in order,” Judge Whitlock stated as she pounded her gavel. “I do hope everyone is ready.”

“The prosecution is ready,” Conner Arnott proudly stated.

Justin stood up to address the judge. “The defense is ready, your honor.”

“The prosecution may call its next witness,” Judge Whitlock said as she made sure her computer was working.

“The prosecution calls Kristen Richards,” Conner responded with a degree of arrogance.

Dressed in a flower-print blouse and a grey skirt, Kristen Richards entered the courtroom, stopping briefly to look at her husband, before taking the witness stand and being sworn in.

“Mrs. Richards,” Connor began, “please tell the court about your current relationship with the defendant.”

“He’s my husband,” she replied. “And I love him.”

“Of course, of course,” Connor acknowledged with a small wave of his hand. “But currently, you’re estranged. Isn’t that correct?”


Connor stared at Kristen. “Mrs. Richards, aren’t you separated? Your husband isn’t living at home with you, is he?”

Kristen took a deep breath. “You are correct. Mike isn’t staying at our home. He’s in your jail.”

Several people in the courtroom chuckled. Judge Whitlock pounded her gavel. “Order in the court.”

Connor held up several photographs. “Mrs. Richards. I have here photographs of a campsite where your husband was staying before he was arrested.”

Kristen nodded her head. “Yes.”

“Can you tell us why he was living in the woods instead of at your home?”

Kristen looked to Justin, who motioned for her to answer the question. “Mike has PTSD. When he was at home, he had trouble sleeping, he would get upset over minor things, unexpected noises startled him. He didn’t even like being touched. But he now is getting help and he is getting better.”

“But he still sleeps in the woods by Misty Lake.”

“He finds it peaceful.”

Connor placed the photos back on the table in front of him. “Has your husband ever become violent?”

“Not to me.”

“But he has become violent” Connor insisted.

“Not really. He’s lost his temper at times, but he never hit or hurt me.”

Connor picked up several sheets of paper. “Maybe not to you Mrs. Richards. But I have here several police reports of your husband being involved in physical altercations.”

“That’s not his fault,” Kristen shouted. “People do things to upset him. And, and instead of simply walking away, they force the issue and cause Mike to become more upset. They started the fights. It’s not Mike’s fault.”

“Objection your honor,” Conner said waving the papers in his hand at Kristen. “The question did not call for the witness’s opinion, just a simple ‘yes or no’ answer.”

Judge Whitlock glared at Connor. “Sustained.” The judge turned toward Kristen. “I realize the defendant is your husband, and this is very difficult for you. But please answer the questions and refrain from adding any emotional explanations. I’m sure if more information is required, the defense attorney will ask for it. Before we continue, would you like a few moments to regain your composure?”

“No thank you, your honor,” Kristen said as she faced Connor.

“Then, once again Mrs. Richards, has you husband ever become violent?”

“Objection,” Justin exclaimed, “asked and answered.”

“Your honor,” Connor loudly pleaded.

“Sustained,” Judge Whitlock responded. “It’s been established that the defendant has lost his temper on a number of occasions. Let’s move on.”

Connor nodded his head before picking up several other pieces of paper. “Mrs. Richards, what can you tell us about the complaints against your husband made by individuals out at Misty Lake?”

Kristen smiled. “Nothing.”

“Nothing,” Connor loudly repeated. “You know nothing about these complaints?”

“That’s right counselor,” Kristen replied with a degree of hostility.”

“What can you tell us about the binoculars? Why is your husband spying on everyone out there at the lake?”

“He likes to watch the birds out there,” Kristen answered.

“But he isn’t spying on people?

“Objection,” Justin called out. “Asked and answered.”

“Sustained,” said Judge Whitlock

Connor waved several pieces of paper in front of him. “I have here several complaints against your husband for trespassing and voyeurism. How do you explain that Mrs. Richards?”

“Objection,” Justin shouted as he stood up. “None of those complaints resulted in any criminal charges. In fact, several of them were nothing more than people ranting and were completely unsustained.” 

“That’s true,” Kristen added, turning her body in the witness chair to face the judge. Most of those complaints were just people who wanted to get Mike away from Misty Lake.”

“The objection is sustained,” the judge stated. “Move on.”

“No further questions,” Connor said as he sat down.

Judge Whitlock faced Justin. “Your witness counselor.”

“Thank you, your honor,” Justin said as he walked to the front of the defense table and sat on it with one leg dangling over the front. “Mrs. Richards let’s go back to Mike’s binoculars. What did he use them for? Why did he have them?”

“Objection,” Connor shouted. “The binoculars have no relevance with this case.”

“Overruled,” the judge stated. “Mr. Arnott. You introduced the binoculars in testimony. The defense counsel has every right to ask about them.”

Kristen smiled. “Mike was interested in bird watching. He used the binoculars to watch the eagles out at the lake.”

“Thank you,” said Justin. “Now, let us talk about your husband’s temper. You stated that he would become upset at small things such as loud noises. Did he ever become violent because of these minor annoyances?”

“No. He would get angry, but he never yelled at me or became physical.”

“But he did assault several others.”

“Yes, but it was only after they continued to bother him. I remember several times Mike would ask them to leave him alone, but they wouldn’t. They kept harassing him, asking about the war and how many people he had killed. They kept wanting to know things Mike was trying to forget.”

Connor stood up. Before he could say anything, Judge Whitlock pointed her gavel at him. “You opened up this line of questioning, so you cannot object to her testimony.”

Connor sat back down. Justin got up from his position and pulled out a photograph of Mike’s campsite at Misty Lake. “Mrs. Richards, this is a photograph of the defendant’s campsite, is it not?”

“It is,” said Kristen.

“And you’ve visited this campsite several times, didn’t you?”

Kristen nodded. “Yes, I would go out there at least once a week to see how Mike was doing. I always made it a point to pick up his dirty laundry and leave his clean clothes. I also brought out food for him.”

“Objection,” Connor shouted, “relevance?”

Judge Whitlock held up her hand and looked to Justin. “Counselor, do you have reason for this line of questioning?”

“I do, your honor. If you allow me to continue, I will be able to introduce a new piece of evidence, at a later time, that will clear my client.”

“Wouldn’t this be better served to do it when you present your entire case?”

“It might, your honor,” Justin replied. “But in the interest of time, introducing it now will things easier later on.”

Judge Whitlock leaned back in her chair and took a deep breath. “I’ll allow it; but it had better be good or I’ll hold you in contempt.”

“I will, your honor.” Justin turned his attention to Kristen. “Mrs. Richards, do you remember what kind of rope your husband used in his camp?”

“No, not really. It was some kind of thin nylon.”

“Do you remember what color it was?”

“It was dark, black or green, I don’t remember.”

Justin picked up a piece of blue and white rope. “Did you ever see this kind of rope at the defendant’s campsite?”

“Relevance,” Connor shouted.

“Your honor,” Justin replied, “if the court will be patience, I will show the relevance of this testimony later.”

“I’ll allow it,” said Judge Whitlock.

“No,” Kristen answered, “I’ve never seen that kind of rope at Mike’s campsite.”

“That’s all I have for this witness,” Justin said as he took his seat.

  • * * * * *

The next witness for the prosecution was Denise Stebbins, Paul Campbell’s girlfriend. She entered the courtroom, unsure of where to go until the bailiff escorted her to the witness stand. She held tightly to a small purse and a white handkerchief. Connor sensing she was nervous, asked several simple questions to establish her identity and relationship to Paul Campbell.

“Do you know the defendant?” Connor asked, pointing to Mike Richards.

“Yes,” Denise meekly answered.

“Have you encountered the defendant while you were at Misty Lake?”


“Could you please tell the court about your encounters with the defendant?”

Denise fumbled with the handkerchief in her hand. “Sometimes, I would go out to Misty Lake with Paul when he was collecting water samples. I ran into Wild Mike then.”

“Objection,” Justin interjected. “The misnomer of my client’s name causes prejudice with the jury.”

“Sustained,” Judge Whitlock replied. She turned to Denise. “Please address the defendant by his name or as the defendant. Please do not use any nicknames others call him.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Denise

Connor cleared his throat. “During these encounters with the defendant, was he ever violent or threatening?”

Denise looked around the courtroom. She continued to fiddle with the handkerchief in her hand.

Judge Whitlock waited for Denise to respond. After a minute of silence, she turned to face Denise. “My dear, are you nervous?”

“Kind of.” Denise replied.

Judge Whitlock leaned toward Denise. “Well don’t be. I’m not going to let anyone here hurt you. Now, I may be an old lady,” the judge said while pointing to the bailiff. “But he isn’t, and he will stop anyone who gets out of line. You are perfectly safe. All you have to do is simply answer the questions the attorneys ask you. If you don’t understand something, you can ask me, and I will explain it. Okay?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good,” Judge Whitlock said in soothing tone. “Now, I’m going to have Mr. Arnott ask you the question again. All you have to do is answer him.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Thank you, your honor,” Connor said in his best political voice. “Miss. Stebbins. When you were out at Misty Lake, was the defendant ever hostile to you or your boyfriend?”


Connor looked to the jury for his next question. “So, your boyfriend and the defendant knew each other?”


“So, the defendant had animosity against your boyfriend and wanted to hurt him?”

“Objection,” Justin exclaimed. “Calls for speculation.”

“Your honor,” Connor shouted back.

“Quiet,” Judge Whitlock commanded as she pounded her gavel. “The defense’s objection is sustained.”

“What does that mean?” Denise asked.

Judge Whitlock turned and faced Denise. “It means you don’t have to answer the question, dear.”

“I’ll rephrase,” Connor angrily stated. “Miss Stebbins. Did the defendant give you any reason to feel threatened to you or your boyfriend?”


Connor faced Justin. “Your witness.”

Justin stood up. “Your name is Denise Stebbins, correct?”


“May I call you Denise?”

“Okay, sure.”

“Denise, do you remember how we first met?”

“Yes, I came to your office to ask you to look for Paul. He was missing.”

“That’s right,” Justin said. “And shortly after that, we found out Paul was killed.”


“Why was Paul out at the lake?”

Denise sat up a little bit. “He was working on a project for his environmental degree,” she said proudly. “He would go out to the lake and collect water samples and some dead fish for analysis. He wanted to find out why the fish were dying out at Misty Lake.”

Justin glanced down for a second. “It’s a shame we lost such a dedicated scientist when we lost Paul. Now, it was at these times, when Paul was out there collecting these samples when he ran into my client, Mike Richards. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Now I want you to think carefully,” Justin said. “Please tell us, the best that you can, exactly how Mike Richards threatened you and Paul?”

Denise started fidgeting with the handkerchief in her hand. “Just relax,” Justin said. “Just tell us in our own words how and why you felt Mike was threatened?”

“He came up to us one time. He said something like for us to be careful. He said we could get hurt if we weren’t.”

Justin nodded his head. “I can understand how that may be intimidating. What did he do after that?”

“He walked away.”

“Did my client stare at you? Give you a mean look? Say anything else?’


 “Then my client could have been warning you, instead of a threatening you?”

“Objection,” yelled Connor. “That really does call for speculation.”

“Your honor,” Justin countered. “Only the witness can tell us how she felt and whether or not she may have been mistaken. All I’m asking is was she sure it was a threat.”

“I’ll allow it,” Judge Whitlock replied.

Justin looked at Denise again. “All I want you to do is tell if what my client said was really a threat or could it have been a warning.”

“Well,” Denise answered is a small voice, “I guess it could have been a warning.”

  • * * * * *  

Justin groaned as he sat down behind his desk in his office.

Wendy stared at Justin as he leaned back in his chair. She gave him a minute to clear his head. “Heard you poked some holes in the DA’s case today,” she said, hoping to elicit details of the events in court.

“Poking holes in his case doesn’t get our client an acquittal.” Justin replied. “And tomorrow, we need to start our case to prove Mike is innocence.”

Wendy turned to face Justin. “So who’s our first witness?”

“The very people who presented the best case against our client.”

  • * * * * *

Chapter Thirty-Seven

“You’re late,” Judge Whitlock admonished Justin as he approached the defense counsel’s table. “In my courtroom, we start at nine o’clock sharp.”

“Sorry about that your honor,” Justin said as he looked at his watch and realized he was less than five minutes late. “I needed to. . .”

“Don’t want to hear it,” said the judge. “Call your first witness.”

“Yes, your honor. The defense calls Detective Kimberly Simmons.”

Kimberly entered the courtroom. Judge Whitlock reminded her that she was still under oath.

“Detective Simmons,” Justin began, “Do you remember the events of your investigation of the old C Mine?”

“I should,” Kimberly answered. “We were just out there last week.”

Several people chuckled, which seemed to add to Justin’s embarrassment. “Could you tell the court what you found out there?”

“First, we checked the defendant’s old campsite, which had been removed by some of his friends. We found nothing there. We then went to the C Mine. Detective Tindall, you, and myself went into the mine and searched it. It had already been cleared of drug paraphernalia, which made it easier for us to search. We focused on looking for evidence that either Raymond Carlson or Paul Campbell was killed there. During our search, we discovered threads and a piece of rope that matched the rope used to tie Paul Campbell when he was dumped in Misty Lake.”

“Was a forensic examination done on those fibers and the rope?”

“Of course. They were determined to be the same kind as those used to tie up Paul Campbell.”

“Are these those samples?” Justin proudly asked as he held up three evidence bags.

“I don’t know,” Kimberly answered. “I can’t tell from here.”

Again people chuckled. “Let the detective examine them,” Judge Whitlock said.

Justin handed the evidence bags to Kimberly, who examined each one before handing them back to Justin. “Yes, that’s the evidence we found in the mine.”

“Objection,” Connor shouted as he jumped to his feet. “The prosecution has not had an opportunity to examine the evidence.”

“But the police department has,” Justin argued. “Unless the prosecution wants to question, and possible expel all of the evidence examine by the police department.”

“Of course not!” Connor yelled. “But the prosecution is the one who introduces physical evidence of a crime.”

“Are you saying the defense can’t introduce evidence?” Justin asked in a mock sense of disbelief.

Judge Whitlock banged her gavel. “I’m saying both of you knock it off. Let me remind everyone that I am the one who decides what evidence gets entered at trial. And I am accepting the evidence presented by the defense.”

Justin handed the three evidence envelopes to the bailiff, who took them over to the jury to examine. Justin also smugly grinned as Connor sat down.

“One more question,” Justin said, turning to face Kimberly. “When you searched the defendant’s campsite, did you find any kind of fibers or rope that matched that used to tie Paul Campbell?”

“No, we didn’t.”

“Your witness,” Justin said as he returned to the defense’s table.

Connor stood up and adjusted his coat. “Detective, are you romantically involved with the defense attorney?”

“Objection,” Justin shouted, jumping up from his chair. “Relevance,” he demanded.

“I agree,” said Judge Whitlock. “Of what importance is the detective’s love life?”

“I’m trying to show a bias on the part of the detective for the defense and the defense attorney,” Connor explained.

Judge Whitlock motioned for Connor to come forward. When he was in front of her, she leaned over. “I usually don’t give lawyers advice, but considering you are about to make an ass out of yourself. Are you sure you want to do this? If you cast doubts on her testimony here, it also casts doubts on her testimony when she was your witness. And without her testimony, you might lose the case. It’s one thing to be adversarial, but it’s another to be foolish. Again, are you sure you want to do this?”

“No, your honor,” Connor replied meekly. “I withdraw the question.”

Connor returned to his desk. He cleared his throat. “Detective, when did you conduct this search for the rope and the fibers?”

“Last week,” answered Kimberly.

“But you and a crime search team had already searched the mine weeks ago. Why didn’t you recover the rope and fibers evidence then?”

Kimberly let out a small cough. “At that time, we were interested in collecting evidence for drug convictions. I admit, we failed to consider the possibility the mine was a homicide scene.”

“Why is that?” Connor insisted. “Certainly you must have realized the illegal drug activity might be connected to the two homicides that occurred at Misty Lake?”

“We did. If fact, I even collected a blood sample from the dock at the C Mine.”

“Were you able to get a match from the blood sample?’

“No, it was too badly degraded.”

Connor tucked at his belt before looking back at Kimberly. “The day you searched the C Mine, who was with you?”

“Mr. Justin Ainsley, Detective Steve Tindall, and myself.”

Connor smiled. “Whose idea was it to search the mine?”

“Mr. Ainsley’s.”

“You stated you searched the defendant’s campsite. Was that also Mr. Ainsley’s idea?’

“It was.”

“So,” Connor said while pacing in front of his desk. “It’s entirely possible that between the time when you first searched these two locations and the second time you search these locations, that the defense attorney, Mr. Justin Ainsley, visited both sites. Don’t you agree?”

“Agree to what?” Kimberly asked.

“That the defense attorney could have visited these sites.”

“I suppose so.”

“And, isn’t it possible,” Connor paused and raised his hand for effect. “That the defense attorney planted the evidence you found the second time you went out there. And that Mr. Ainsley was along to ensure you would find the evidence, which would help raise reasonable doubt in this case.”

“Objection,” Justin shouted. “Call for speculation, and calls into question my integrity.”

“Sustained,” Judge Whitlock ruled.

“I withdraw the question,” Connor said, staring at Justin. It didn’t matter what the judge ruled. The jury had heard his idea.

  • * * * * *

After calling Detective Simmons as a witness, it didn’t surprise Connor the defense’s next witness would be a police officer; although he didn’t expect it to be Jefferson Davis, the rookie patrol officer, along with his partner, who had been first on the scene of Raymond Carlson’s homicide.

Justin walked to the front on his desk and leaned against it. “Officer Davis, before this case, have you ever been in a courtroom before?”

Davis looked to the jury, then the judge before looking at Justin. “Yes, I have.”

“Could you please tell the court about it?”

Officer Davis was dressed in his uniform. He kept fiddling with his cap in his lap. Justin waited, knowing Davis was getting up the courage to explain. “When I was fifteen,” Davis started. “A bunch of us broke into this old house. We thought it was abandoned. We didn’t think anyone would car. Anyway, we got caught and I ended up in juvenile court.”

Justin waved his hand to signal for Davis to stop. “So, you know how important it is to get the facts straight in any case before the court?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now I want you to think carefully,” Justin said to calm Davis. “On the night you and your partner responded to Raymond Carlson’s murder, how long did it take you to get to the scene after you were dispatched?”

“We were never dispatched.”

“Excuse me. You were never dispatched!”

“No. I was in a convenience store picking up something to drink. When I came out, Homer, I mean Officer Rucker, my partner, told me someone had called him and said something strange was happening out at Misty Lake. So we went out there.”

“How long did that take?” Justin asked.

“About twenty minutes,” Davis replied.

“So you were out at Misty Lake. What alerted you to my client, who was on the shore with the victim, Raymond Carlson?”

“It was my partner who noticed the defendant with the murder victim.”

Justin stood up and walked around his desk, stopping to face Davis. “How long were you out there at Misty Lake before my client was observed on the shoreline?’

Davis took a deep breath, taking a moment before answering. “Wasn’t long, only a few minutes, maybe five or ten.”

“In less than ten minutes, you were able to check out the marina, High Road, and find my client on the shore.”

“Oh no, sir,” Davis emphatically stated. We didn’t check out the marina or High Road. We were patrolling around the lake when we found him, the defendant, with the body.”

Justin smiled. “You didn’t check out the marina or High Road?”

“Objection,” Connor exclaimed. “Asked and answered.”

“Sustained,” Judge Whitlock ruled.

“Let me rephrase,” Justin responded. “Your partner gets a phone call, fifteen to twenty minutes later you arrive and almost immediately find my client on the shore with Raymond Carlson. And you didn’t think it was strange?”

“Guess not. I mean, I figure whoever called told Homer, I mean Officer Rucker where to go.”

“That’s probably it,” Justin said. He picked up a piece of paper. “In my hand, I have a copy of the chain of custody receipt for the evidence you found at my client’s campsite. It states you found Raymond Carlson’s wallet and cell phone in a bedroll at my client’s campsite. Is that correct?”

“Yes, sir. That’s correct.”

“Tell us about the search. How did you find these items?”

Connor raised his hand. “Objection. Asked and answered.”

“There’s more to this,” Justin countered. “I’m just laying the groundwork for further testimony.”

“I’ll allow it,” said Judge Whitlock, “but you had better make your point quickly.”

“Yes, your honor,” Justin said before returning his attention to Davis. “Please tell us about the search of my client’s campsite.”

Davis took a breath before beginning. “I remember we had to wait for a search warrant, which I thought was strange since the campsite was on public property. But Detective Simmons said because Wild Mike, I mean the defendant, had an expectation of privacy, we would need a warrant. Once Detective Simmons got the warrant, she along with her partner, Detective Tindall, Officer Rucker, and myself went out to search the campsite. Detective Tindall divide us up and gave us each a section of the camp to search. I was searching my section, which was mostly the trail leading into the camp, when Officer Rucker asked me to come and help him. When we unrolled the bedding, we found the wallet and cell phone.”

“Where were Detectives Simmons and Tindall at this time?”

“They were searching the area where Wil. . ., the defendant use for chopping wood and cooking.”

“So, both you and Officer Rucker found Raymond Carlson’s wallet and cell phone at my client’s campsite. Why is only you name on the chain of custody?”

“Don’t you need only one name on the chain of custody?’

“That’s true. But why did you fill it out and not Officer Rucker?’

“He said I needed the experience.”

“Anything strike you as odd about the campsite?”

“Objection,” said Connor. “Calls for speculation.”

“Overruled,” Judge Whitlock replied. “The campsite no longer exists, so I do want to hear if anyone found anything unusual.”

“No,” Davis answered. “The campsite was neat and clean. Nothing was out of place or abnormal.”

“Which means there were no signs of struggle, were there?” Justin asked.

“That’s correct,” Davis said.    

Justin looked at the photos of Mike’s campsite from the day the search was conducted. “Ever been camping?” Justin asked.

“No sir,” Davis answered.

“Well, I have,” Justin stated. “Even when I was in the Army and on maneuvers, I have never seen a campsite as neat as this one. It looks like no one actually lived there. The sleeping bag is rolled up, the campfire is out, no dirty dishes, nothing out of place. Don’t you find that a bit unusual? In fact, it seems like someone cleaned up the campsite, and possibly planted the cell phone and wallet at the campsite.”

“Objection!” Connor shouted. “This is pure speculation. There is no evidence of any tampering with the crime scene.”

“Sustained,” the judge ruled. “Mr. Ainsley. You know better.” Judge Whitlock turned to the jury. “The jury is instructed to ignore Mr. Ainsley previous comments.”

“I apologize your honor,” Justin responded.

Justin turned his attention to Officer Davis. “Tell me. Between the time my client was arrested and the time you arrived at his camp to conduct the search, how much time had elapsed?”

“Don’t really know. Maybe ten or twelve hours?”

“And during that time, who secured the crime scene?”

“I don’t think anyone did.”

“So, between the time you arrested my client and the time you searched his campsite, no one was protecting it. Doesn’t that lead to the possibility of someone planting evidence during that time?”

“Objection,” Connor shouted. “Calls for speculation. You already ruled against these kinds of slanderous statements.”

Judge Whitlock leaned back in her chair and took a breath. “The statements are hardly slanderous since they are not directed toward anyone. While I agree there is no evidence of anyone tampering with the crime scene, the defense does raise an interesting point.” The judge leaned forward and pounded her gavel. “Overruled.”

Justin pointed to Davis. “Isn’t it possible for someone to have gone to the campsite between my client’s arrest and when you searched it?”

“Yeah, it’s possible,” Davis answered.

  • * * * * *

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Judge Whitlock’s didn’t like fake plants, shelves of law books, or papers scattered about. Her office held two computers, each with a four-foot curved screen. One computer took the place of her law library. The other one, she used for her daily business. She had a large, comfortable chair behind her L-shaped desk. The only photograph on her desk was one of her late husband. There were several framed pictures of sea life from photographs her husband had taken during one of their many vacations. The front half of the office held a coffee table with six chairs surrounding it. Judge Whitlock was seated in one of the chairs. Justin, Connor, Kimberly and Tindall were in four of the other ones. They sat in silence until Judge Whitlock’s assistant brought in coffee and cookies for everyone.

Judge Whitlock picked up her coffee, took a sip, and pointed to Justin with the cup. “It doesn’t take much to see you’re trying for a SODDI (some other dude did it) defense.”

“I’m positive someone else killed those two boys,” Justin replied.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Connor interjected. “Your client was caught at the scene. He had motive and the means. Furthermore, there is no one else who would want to hurt those boys.”

“He has a point there,” Judge Whitlock stated.

Justin shook his head. “Not quite. He believes Mike Richards killed Paul Campbell because of a grudge and because Raymond Carlson saw the murder, Mike Richards had to kill him too. But what if Raymond Carlson was killed first, and then later, probably the next day, Paul Campbell was killed?”

“Impossible,” Connor shouted. “We had Richards in custody. He couldn’t have killed Campbell after killing Carlson.”

“Exactly,” Justin said, smiling. “And if Richards couldn’t kill Campbell, then he couldn’t have killed Carlson. There would be no reason for him to do so.”

“Not hardly,” Judge Whitlock said. “While you raised some interesting questions about the case, you haven’t presented anything to suggest your client is innocent. The reason I called you all in here is because I want this trial to end quickly, but I want to make sure we have the right person on trial.”

“We do,” Connor insisted.

“I disagree,” Kimberly interjected.

“Of course, you do,” Connor argued. “You’re sleeping with the defense.”

“Tindall reached over and grabbed Kimberly before she could get out of her chair. “Don’t do it,” he said. Tindall turned to Connor. “Well, I’m not sleeping with the defense attorney, and I can tell you that even I have some doubts.”

“Which should have been raised and answered before we got this far,” Judge Whitlock said. “What evidence do you have that someone else killed these boys?”

“First of all, the rope,” Tindall answered. “We found pieces of the same kind of rope used to tie down Paul Campbell’s body in the old C Mine. We know it was used a drug lab, so they probably killed Campbell, not Richards.”

“Then there is the fact that Richards was found with the Carlson’s body,” Kimberly added. “If he had killed Carlson, why was he and the body on the shore? I can understand Richards being wet if he was trying to get rid of the body, but there is no logical explanation of him being wet and with the body unless he actually did pull the body out of the water.”

Connor shook his head and waved his hand. “No! Carlson’s wallet and cell phone were found at Richards’ campsite. How do you explain that? Who would kill Carlson, take his cell phone and wallet, and then place them at Richards’ campsite?”

“Someone who wanted to frame Mike Richards for Carlson’s murder,” Justin answered.

“And who would want to do that?” Judge Whitlock asked.

Justin took a deep breath. “Someone who is very interested in what is happening at Misty Lake.”

  • * * * * *

“Good morning gentlemen,” Judge Whitlock said, looking at Justin and Connor. “After yesterday’s discussion, I do hope you are ready to continue. Mr. Ainsley, please call your next witness.”

“Yes, your honor. The defense calls Adam Linger to the stand.”

Linger entered the courtroom. He smiled and nodded to Connor. He took his seat after being sworn in. Everyone could tell from Linger’s expression he was not happy with being called in as a witness.

“Please state your name, address, and occupation for the record,” Justin stated.

Linger glared at Justin. “My name is Adam Linger, I live on High Road, and I am a professor of law at the university.”

“You also own a boat at the Misty Lake Marina.”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“And yet, as a law professor, you earn less than seventy-five thousand dollars a year.”

“Objection,” Connor shouted. “Mr. Linger’s personal finances are not relevant to these proceedings.”

Linger turned to the judge. “With the court’s permission, I would like to answer the question.”

“Go ahead,” she said, motioning with her hand.

Linger faced Justin. “I used to practice law, and I made a lot of money as a lawyer. I retired and decided to teach. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I agree,” Justin replied. “But what I’m confused about is six months ago you were having some financial difficulties. The bank threatened to repossess your boat, and you were behind on your mortgage payments. But now, you’re doing great financially.”

“Stop right there,” Judge Whitlock demanded. “What do the witness’s finances have to do with this case? You had better have a good explanation.”

Justin held up several pieces of paper. “I wish to submit these as evidence, defense exhibits D through G.”

“Objection,” Connor shouted.

“Quiet,” the judge commanded. She stared at Justin. “Just what are you trying to pull?”

Justin held onto the papers. “As you know, the defense has always believed someone else killed Raymond Carlson and Paul Campbell. I believe someone killed Raymond Carlson in order to frame my client, Mike Richards, for murder. I also believe the same person killed Paul Campbell, who was in the wrong place at the wrong time and witnessed the murder. The only people who would have such a motive are those who have an interest in the future of Misty Lake. What I am going to prove is those people killed those two college kids because of greed. Those two kids stood between the killers and millions of dollars.”

“Preposterous,” Connor yelled, standing up. “There is no reason to believe the victims could have anything to do with any kind of business arrangement.”

“That’s what I intend to prove,” Justin answered. He held up the papers. “The first exhibit is a financial statement showing Adam Linger is heavily in debt. The second one shows Bradner Hansen paying Linger’s bills for the past six months. The third exhibit is proof that Ava Shingle owns almost half of the property surrounding Misty Lake and that Adam Linger and Bradner Hansen are negotiating for the purchase of that property. The next exhibit is a letter of intent to sell that property to a lumber company, making a substantial profit.”

“Objection,” Connor shouted.

The judge banged her gavel. “Sustained. I agree with the prosecution that Mr. Linger’s financial status has anything to do the case.”

“I’m trying to show motive for the murder of those two college students,” Justin replied.

“Are you suggesting that I killed those two kids,” Linger yelled. “I have no reason to kill anyone. What if I’m having some financial problems. That’s hardly a reason to kill some college kids.”

Justin set the papers in his hand back on his table. He rubbed the back of his neck and tool a deep breath. “Mr. Linger, how do you know my client, Mike Richards?”

Linger waved his hand. “I’ve seen him around. After all, I live on High Road, which is above Misty Lake. I’ve seen him around the marina and the lake, usually spying on the people out there.”

“What were the people doing that would make my client want to spy on them?”

“I don’t know,” Linger said, again waving his hand in the air. “I guess he wanted to see what the college kids were doing, probably hoping to see them naked or something.”

“Have you ever seen anyone naked at Misty Lake?”

“No,” shouted Linger. “But then I don’t go around with a pair of binoculars.”

Justin looked down at the papers on his table. “Throughout this trial, the issue of the dead fish and the pollution of Misty Lake keeps coming up. What can you tell me about that?”

“Nothing,” Linger adamantly replied.

“Isn’t it possible that Mike Richards was using his binoculars to spy on people he suspected of polluting the lakes?”

Conner stood up and yelled, “Objection, calls for speculation.”

“Sustained,” the judge ruled.

“Let me recap,” Justin said. “You live on High Road, above Misty Lake, but you have no idea who or what is polluting the lake.”

“That’s right.”

“That’s all I have for this witness,” Justin said as he sat down.

Judge Whitlock turned to Connor. “Your witness.”

Connor stood up and moved some papers on his table before stating he had no questions for the witness.

  • * * * * *

“The defense calls Aaron Kokolowski as its next witness.”

Kokolowski entered the courtroom, tugging at his coat as he made his way to the witness chair. Kokolowski kept looking around the courtroom, uncomfortable with the people watching him.

After Kokolowski was sworn in and seated, Justin picked up a notebook from the evidence table. “Professor Kokolowski, do you recognize this notebook?”

The professor took the notebook from Justin, opened it and examined several pages before returning it to Justin. “Yes,” he said. “It’s Paul Campbell’s notebook.”

“Exactly,” Justin stated. “Did you notice the last entries in the notebook?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“They were dated the day Paul Campbell disappeared.”


“Do you know where the police found this notebook?”

“I have no idea.”

Justin held up the notebook and turned to the jury. “They found it in Paul Campbell’s car, along with several samples he had collected that day.”

“So, what’s so unusual about that?” the professor responded.

“Nothing really. But do you know where the police found Paul Campbell’s car?”

“No. I don’t.”

“They found parked at the university.”

“What’s so strange about that?” Kokolowski asked.

“Objection,” Connor shouted. “Is there a question here?”

Judge Whitlock nodded in agreement. “Counselor, what are asking?”

Justin held up the notebook, looking at the judge. “What I’m establishing, which the prosecution didn’t, was the exact location this evidence was found. My question for the witness is if Paul Campbell was killed at Misty Lake, what was his car, with evidence from the day he disappeared, doing at the university?”

“Objection,” Connor shouted again. “Call for speculation. There is no way Professor Kokolowski could possibly know how the victim’s car got to the university parking lot.”

“Sustained,” Judge Whitlock said. She pointed her gavel at Justin. “And you know better.”

“Let me rephrase the question,” Justin humbly pleaded. He faced the witness. “Based on evidence submitted, we have reason to believe Paul Campbell was murdered and Misty Lake, and yet his car was found at the university. You stated earlier, you saw Paul Campbell the day he disappeared. Did you go out with him to Misty Lake? Were you there when he was murdered? Didn’t you drive his car back to the university? Because that is the only way Paul Campbell could have been murdered and still have his notes from that day, and his car, show up at the university.”

“No, no!” Kokolowski screamed. “I didn’t kill him. He was my student. I took care of him.”

“Yes, you took care of him,” Justin interrupted. “You had to. You had to ensure he wouldn’t find out about the drug lab and the chemicals poisoning the lake. In fact, you went out with him to make sure he wouldn’t find the lab. Instead, he was there when the students working for you killed him. And you couldn’t let Paul live. You couldn’t have a witness to murder, to a crime that would put you away for life.”

Connor jumped to his feet. “Objection. He is badgering the witness.”

“Sustained,” the judge said, banging her gavel. “Mr. Ainsley, you have no evidence nor reason to suspect Professor Kokolowski of killing anyone.”

“Yes, I do, your honor,” Justin answered. “Earlier I tried to introduce several pieces of evidence showing the status of Mr. Linger’s financial status and the proposed sale of land out at Misty Lake.”

“What does that have to do with accusing the witness of murder?” the judge asked.

Justin glared at Connor before looking back at the judge. “The defense has always believed someone else killed Raymond Carlsen and Paul Campbell. The prosecution’s case relies on a motive of rage, anger over an altercation. But the real motive was greed.”

“You mean your client wanted to rob those two unfortunate souls?” Connor yelled.

“No,” Justin replied. “The victims were selected to create a smoke screen so that a land deal could go through.”

Connor was about to object when Judge Whitlock pointed her gavel toward him, signaling for him to remain quiet.

Justin went over to the evidence table and picked up the binoculars. “Throughout the trial, these binoculars have been an issue. Kristen Richards, my client’s wife, testified he used these for bird watching. One of the birds out there, one of the more distinctive birds, is also on the endangered species list. That makes the lake around Misty Lake a natural preserve; land that cannot be developed. Something that the late Charles Shingle knew and put in his will. There were only two people standing in the way of this. One was my client, Mike Richards, who knew about the protected species and was concerned about the pollution of Misty Lake. The other was Paul Campbell, a young idealist who wanted to make the world a better place. Now, Professor Kokolowski could control Paul by invalidating the research and ensuring he went no where close to the drug lab, which he was a partner. But how to get rid of Mike Richards? Those involved came up with a way to frame him for murder. They got Raymond Carlsen to go to the lake to deliver some papers. Then they killed him. They made sure to make enough noise to cause Mike Richards to come down to the shoreline. They had a lookout, who called Officer Rucker to report a disturbance. Once my client was down at the shoreline, they dumped the body. They got really lucky because Mike Richards went into the water in an attempt to save the person, who he thought was Paul Campbell. Instead, my client pulled the body or Raymond Carlsen out of the water. Before he could do anything, Officer Rucker, with Officer Jefferson were on the scene.”

Justin paused for the jury to take all this in. “But there was Paul Campbell,” Justin continued. “He had come back to his car and placed his notes in his car when he saw what had happened, at least saw them push Raymond Carlsen’s car into the lake. They knew the police were on their way and they couldn’t take a second body out there that same night. It was too great a risk. So, they killed Paul Campbell. Whether it was that night, or the next day, is unknown; but the same people who killed Raymond Carlsen also killed Paul Campbell. Now they had two more problems. One was what to do with the body. Simple, weigh it down and dump it in the lake. They figured it would be discovered, or if it was discovered, it would be too late to do anything. But there was Paul Campbell’s car. They could push it into the lake, except someone needed it to get back to the university.”

Justin walked up to the witness and placed his hands of the railing separating the witness from the rest of the court. “That someone, that person who needed a ride back to the university, was you Professor Kokolowski. You had to leave before anyone would see you at the lake. The others, they had the boat. Also, you knew if they found Paul Campbell’s car at the marina, you and your partners wouldn’t be able to convict Mike Richards.”

“It wasn’t my fault,” Kokolowski screamed. “I never wanted to kill anyone.”

“Objection,” screamed Connor.

“Overruled,” Judge Whitlock replied, pounding her gavel.

“No,” said Justin. “You didn’t want to kill anyone. You wanted to keep you drug pipeline going. Your partners came up with the idea framing Mike Richards. But you went along, knowing that it would take several months for the land deal to go through and by that time you would have found another place for your drug lab. But you still let your partners kill Paul Campbell.”

“That’s not true,” Kokolowski said sobbing. “Once Paul found out what was happening, I tried to get him to understand, to join us. I didn’t want to kill him.”

Judge Whitlock pounded her gavel. “Quiet in the court,” she demanded. “It’s obvious we have the wrong person on trial. I’m declaring a mistrial.”

Judge Whitlock motioned to Detectives Tindall and Simmons. “Take the professor into custody and reopen the investigation. I’m sure there are others involved, and I want all of them in my court, standing trial for the murder of Raymond Carlsen and Paul Campbell.”

Judge Whitlock turned to Justin. “By any chance, would you have any idea who was involved other than Professor Kokolowski?”

“Of course, your honor.”

The judge signaled the bailiff to secure the courtroom. “Who are they?”

Justin turned to face the others in the courtroom. “The land deal was being set up by Nicole Welsh, her husband, Bradner Hansen, and Adam Linger. I’m sure Officer Rucker can tell you who the people were running the drug lab and the ones directly responsible for killing Raymond Carlsen and Paul Campbell.”

“What makes you think I had anything to do with this?” Rucker yelled.

“You got a phone call and knew exactly where to go; without checking the most likely spot, the marina,” Justin replied. “Also, you made sure another police officer was there when the evidence was found. You picked a rookie because he would be the easiest to fool if he asked questions, such as why you hadn’t already checked the bedroll. Then there is the fact that your name doesn’t appear on any reports or paperwork. This is a high-profile case, and you want to remain in the shadows.”

“You can’t prove anything,” Rucker answered with a sneer.

“But we can,” Tindall responded. “All we need is a warrant for your financial records.”

“You’ll have it within the hour,” the judge added.

“Wait!” shouted Kristen. “Does this mean my husband is not guilty? Is he free?”

“As soon as the bailiff does the paperwork,” Judge Whitlock answered. “Something I’m sure Mr. Ainsley will expedite.”

This is the end of this novel. I will in the future rewrite it and add more, but for now, the story ends. Hope you enjoyed it.