The Third Victim Part 16

"Is it true, Officer Conner, that you discharged your weapon at the scene?"

"Yes, as I explained' "Isn't it true that anytime a gun is fired, it emits gunpowder residue?"

"Sure, but I was hardly standing over Danny ' "But it would get on your hands, wouldn't it, Officer? And then didn't you pat down the suspect, Danny O'grady? Didn't you touch his clothes, his arms, his hands as you searched for weapons, as you twisted his arms behind his back for the bracelets? In fact, couldn't all that gunpowder found on his person really have come from your hands from discharging your weapon?"

Rainie was stunned. Christ, she hadn't thought of that. Everything had happened so fast. First trying hard not to kill Shep or his kid.

Then needing to get Danny immediately restrained. What was she supposed to do? Tell a murder suspect to stay there like a good boy while she ran to the lavatory to wash her hands?

The lab can do more tests," Rainie mumbled desperately. "There are different kinds of gunpowder. They could prove what's from my weapon, what's from his."

"Oh, they're trying to," Sanders a.s.sured her, resuming his normal punching tone.

"We don't know yet if it's possible, however. Looks like Danny was using his father's ammo, and wouldn't you know it, Shep does his ordering for the department and for himself all from the same manufacturer. Tricky, huh?"

Rainie had a headache. She almost rubbed her temples, then realized she couldn't afford to give away that much. Plus, that man was still standing in the doorway, taking everything in with no apparent regard for their privacy. If he was a reporter, she would have to kill him.

"Do we at least have the murder weapons?" she asked Abe, since he was the one in charge of evidence.

"a.T.F. took the weapons for ballistics testing. We don't have results yet."

"But what else could they be? If all else fails, we've got Danny's prints on the guns. That's something." Abe said, "No prints on the guns."

"What? No way. I saw him holding those guns. I made Shep leave the building before me. There is no way the weapons were wiped clean."

"Not wiped clean smeared beyond lifting one clean print. Such as what might happen when an experienced police officer pretended to wrestle a handgun from his child's grip."

"No," Rainie said.

"Why not? Because Shep is your boss? Because you feel indebted to him?"

"Don't go there. That has no bearing on anything." Sanders, however, had no learning curve.

"Everything has bearing. In the hands of a good defense attorney, Conner, the Andy Gibb poster you kissed every night when you were twelve can have relevance. I asked around. You were arrested for murder fourteen years ago, at the tender age of seventeen. Arresting officer, one Shep O'grady. And the man who worked to have the charges cleared, one Shep O'grady."

"Because he realized he made a mistake."

"Who cares? Fact remains that you work together, you have dinner at his house, and fourteen years ago he helped you out of a bind, then six years after that gave you a job some people still question. You think that won't come up during trial? Shep's got loyalty to Danny; you've got loyalty to him. And you three are alone at the scene. Face it, chain of custody on this case is screwed."

"Nothing inappropriate happened in that building, Detective. You weren't there. You don't know how things went down."

Sanders was silent for a moment. Then he said quietly, dangerously, "No, I don't think you know how things went down. Shep made you the primary officer before ever arriving at the scene. Why? When you arrive at the school, Shep's car is there, but for forty-five minutes there's no sign of him. Where's the sheriff? What's he doing?"

"He already stated that Danny was holding him hostage in that cla.s.sroom."

"Do you know that? Do any of us really know that? From where I'm sitting, you search this whole school without them ever peeking out their heads. Then, when you're due to enter that cla.s.sroom anyway, they finally show themselves. Next thing you know, you're front-row center for a little display that magically makes you discharge your weapon obliterating a key piece of evidence while giving Shep O'grady a chance to handle the other two key pieces of evidence. d.a.m.n convenient if you ask me."

Rainie was incredulous.

"You think Shep staged an armed confrontation between a police officer and his son on the off chance it would eliminate some of the evidence against Danny?"

"He didn't stage it for any officer, Conner. He staged it for you.

You've known Danny for eight years. h.e.l.l, according to everyone in this town, you and Luke helped raise Danny O'grady, watching him every afternoon in the office. What were the chances you'd open fire?"

"Shep is a good cop. He wouldn't tamper with evidence. "He's a father. Don't kid yourself."

"I was there, I saw it go down. I know what happened."

"Yeah, well, Shep's already going all over town claiming there's trouble with the evidence and that he's certain his kid will walk. Who do you think pointed out that you'd discharged your weapon before frisking Danny? Who do you think is claiming the scene is FUBAR?

Shep's got his own agenda. You just don't want to see it, and that's why you need to hand over the case. To someone who is perfectly objective. To someone who has experience."

"To someone who loves looking good in front of a camera."

Sanders shook his head. He appeared disgusted.

"Conner, I got a ninety percent conviction rate. Hate me if you want to, but show me a little respect. You're the one keeping the case out of ego. I just want to push it ahead to conviction, so everyone can get on with their lives."

"Then you're an idiot," Rainie told him flatly.

"You really think locking away a thirteen-year-old kid will make us feel better? Give us a sense of closure? Personally, I'll be driving by that school for the rest of my life, wondering what really happened yesterday afternoon. And all the parents and teachers will be wondering the same thing. What drives a boy to kill? Why did two little girls have to die? Why didn't we prevent this from happening?

"More than an arrest, my town needs an explanation, and I'm going to get it for them. Now get out of my office, Detective, and the next time you talk to Rodriguez, pull that stick out of your a.s.s. It's really not helping."

Rainie returned to her desk and sat down. A moment later she had the satisfaction of hearing Sanders storm away. It didn't improve her mood, however. She was already growing weary of their battles.

And disheartened. Sanders was right: she had f.u.c.ked up yesterday.

She'd done her job earnestly, and that meant nothing in the criminal justice system. She had captured a suspect but destroyed the evidence.

Soon she'd only be fit for a job with the LAPD.

And her credibility would come into question. People still whispered.

Of course, it was a small town. If people didn't whisper through the long, rainy winters, everyone would lose their minds.

Rainie Conner's tough. Gotta watch out for her. Killed her own mother.

Rainie sighed, then became aware that the man in the navy blue suit was still standing there, watching.

"Can I help you?" she asked sharply.

"Officer Lorraine Conner?"

"I don't know. Who's asking?"

The man smiled, a wry tilt of one corner of his mouth. The gesture crinkled the corners of his eyes and momentarily startled Rainie. Lean hunter's face. Penetrating blue eyes. She did a quick double take before she caught herself. Then she was embarra.s.sed. Whoever the man was, she already wished he'd turn and walk away.

He said, "I'm Supervisory Special Agent Pierce Quincy of the FBI."

"Ah s.h.i.t."

He smiled dryly again. And it got to her again, even now, when she definitely knew better. She wished for a bottle of beer.