by BJ Bourg
“She feels like shit,” Mallory had said earlier on the phone, “and she wants you to know that she’s willing to pay you for all the trouble she’s caused. I told her about the jail riot and how you were almost murdered, and it made her cry hysterically. I think she even pissed her panties.”
“Why would you do that?” I had asked incredulously.
“Because she almost got you killed,” Mallory said evenly. “She deserves every bit of grief she can get—and so does David Monier.”
I had been too tired and in too much pain to argue, so I’d just thanked her and ended the call. Now, Susan and I waited while she tried to figure out which key opened the front door.
“Damn, your face still looks like shit,” Amy said when she and Melvin approached us. I had called for them to meet us here first thing in the morning, and she hadn’t seen me since last night. There was genuine concern in her eyes. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”
“And miss this?” I shook my head. “Not a chance.”
“I swear, Clint,” Melvin said, “if I ever catch that Ethan Bruce when I’m out of uniform…”
He let his voice trail off, but we all knew what he was thinking. Melvin was as loyal as they came. If you attacked one his friends, you’d just as soon head to the cemetery and pick out a burial plot.
Mallory finally got the door open and stood aside for me to enter first. Feeling like an old and broken bull rider, I shuffled my way to the kitchen and stopped momentarily in front of the refrigerator to pull on some gloves. My heart was racing. I needed so bad to see a tub of ice cream in the freezer. After Amy took a picture of the exterior of the appliance, I opened the door to the freezer.
“Shit!” My heart sank. There were a few ice packs, several boxed meals, a frozen pizza, and some weird looking bottle of health stuff, but there was no ice cream. I pushed it shut and was about to turn to leave with a thought occurred to me. I surveyed the kitchen. “Where’s the garage?”
Mallory pointed. “Through that door.”
We all headed in the direction she pointed. Once through the door, I had to navigate a series of small steps, but I saw a large deep freezer in the corner. My hope renewed, I headed straight for it. I paused long enough for Amy to photograph it, and then I lifted the lid. There, right on top of the other frozen goods, was a one-gallon tub of cookies and cream ice cream.
I removed the tub with my gloved hands and returned to the kitchen. The short walk took a lot longer than I would’ve liked—thanks to the pain I felt with every twitch of my fiber—but we finally made it to the counter.
As I tore off the lid, Susan and Melvin rummaged through the drawers looking for an ice cream scoop. Melvin found it first and gave a triumphant cheer. He tossed it to me, but my reactions were hampered by the pain from the beating I’d taken, so the scoop sailed harmlessly through the air, bounced off the wall, and clattered to the floor. We all laughed as Melvin mumbled an apology.
“I forget you’re hurt,” he said.
“How can you?” Amy scoffed at him. “Just look at his face, for God’s sake.”
I shook my head and grinned. Despite the pain, I was feeling very optimistic. This was definitely a newly purchased tub of ice cream and, although it was full, it was obvious that the surface area had been disturbed.
Once Melvin retrieved the scoop, he handed it to me and I went to work. It was frozen solid so it was a tough job, but I didn’t have to dig deep. About four scoops down, I hit on something solid. I worked with more fervor and minutes later had unearthed a tiny Ziploc baggie containing a red flash drive.
“Wow,” Melvin breathed, “I can’t believe it worked.”
Mallory quickly left the group and called over her shoulder that she was going get her laptop. I cleaned off the outside of the baggie and carefully removed the flash drive from inside. My hands shook a little as I realized that this might be the key to solving Ralph Plant’s murder.
“Can freezing temperatures destroy these things?” I asked as the fingers of panic suddenly gripped me around the throat.
“I don’t think so,” Susan said.
Mallory was back in an instant. She flipped open her laptop and fired it up. Although it hurt to move, I tapped my foot nervously as we all waited for the computer to wake up. When the welcome screen finally appeared, she punched in her pass code and stepped aside for me to insert the flash drive.
I was pleasantly surprised to find only one video file on the storage device. There was no title except for the one that had been automatically generated when it was created, so we had no hints as to what was inside. When I navigated the cursor over the icon, an information bubble appeared showing the file had been created four days ago—the very day Ethan gave Ralph the advice.
“Well, here goes nothing,” I said, and double-clicked the video file. The very second it began to play there was a collective gasp from the officers surrounding me. As for me, I wanted to lurch over and vomit right there on the floor.
CHAPTER 55
Friday, October 1
The Honorable Judge Zachary Lamb’s Office
It turned out we were all wrong about who killed Ralph Plant and Doug Cagle. While we were still waiting for results from the lab, we had been able to piece the case together with the help of Kim Plant and Ashley Cagle. They had both granted us access to their husbands’ phone records—which speeded up the process—and now that we knew which phone number was involved, it was easy to follow the bread crumbs.
“This is wild conjecture and pure speculation!” Judge Lamb said, removing his spectacles and tossing the affidavit to his desk. The short man’s face was on fire. “How dare you bring such a blasphemous document for me to sign! And libelous, I might add. If she gets wind of this, she’s liable to sue you for everything you’ve got. And I would be a witness on her behalf.”
I glared through my broken face—a face that had been broken thanks to the signature of the same man sitting in front of me—and I was not amused.
“Your Honor,” I said evenly, “I have a witness stating that Ralph Plant receives a phone call and a visit from a woman around noon on Saturday. That 6596 cell number is the only one that called Ralph’s phone between noon and three that day. The same number calls Doug Cagle’s personal phone repeatedly over the previous week, but most notably during key moments in the timeline of this investigation—like an hour before Ralph was murdered.”
“But that doesn’t mean—”
“Your Honor, please,” I said patiently. “I’m not finished.”
He took a frustrated breath, but didn’t object to me continuing. Although he hadn’t apologized for what happened to me, his face had turned a shade whiter when he’d first seen me enter his office.
“The 6596 number called Ralph’s phone just minutes before our suspect arrives at his office to kill him,” I went on. “Although the number had been communicating with Doug quite frequently during the week, it didn’t communicate with him for up to thirty minutes before the suspect vehicle arrived at Ralph’s office, and it didn’t communicate with his phone until an hour after the suspect vehicle left. These were all phone calls, not text messages. We believe this was because Doug and the killer were together. Now, right after Ralph is murdered, a fire is set in a field on the northern end of town and this cross”—I lifted up a picture of the silver cross that had been recovered from the metal drum—“is found in the ashes.”
I paused to glance down at my notes. My memory felt foggy, thanks to the beating I’d taken, and I wanted to be sure everything I was saying was accurate.
“As you already know, we began investigating on Monday and we noticed that Ralph’s phone was missing. Later in the day, we discovered that an iPad was synched with his iPhone, I called Mallory to request a search warrant—one that you refused to sign—and Doug overhears her speaking to me. Within a minute after he leaves the building, Doug called the 6596 number. Within the hour, Kim Plant is attacked and the iPad is stolen. That’s when David Monier ge
ts involved and tries his best to screw things up—”
“Detective Wolf,” Judge Lamb interrupted, a pained expression on his face, “I do want to say that I’m sorry for what happened. Had I suspected Detective Monier was withholding evidence, I would’ve never signed the warrant. That was a travesty of justice, and it is being corrected. I’ve already lodged a complaint with his superiors and there will be consequences. Having said that, I certainly don’t want to make the same mistake twice, especially since we’re dealing with someone of her esteemed reputation.”
“I appreciate that,” I said sincerely. “However, continuing to follow the phone records, we’ve got Doug also calling the 6596 number minutes after Kim was attacked. The next day, David Monier goes to the DA’s office and tells them about the suspect wearing a Remember the Fallen wristband. While David is still in the building, the 6596 number calls Doug. They have no more communication until two o’clock on Wednesday, which would’ve been right before Doug was killed. We know Doug was alive at one-thirty-five, because he texted his wife from his work phone at that time.”
I pause and indicated Susan, who was sitting beside me. “Chief Wolf spoke with Ashley earlier today, and she said Doug would frequently contact her from his work phone or cell phone, and that it was irregular. Basically, whatever phone was closest to him was the one he would use, but we found that he has never communicated with the 6596 number from his work phone, and whoever killed him stole his personal phone. Had it not been for Mr. Cagle allowing us to access his phone records, we might never have been able to piece this together, because Your Honor might not have signed the search warrant for those records.”
I felt Susan kick me from under the desk, and the dig did not go unnoticed by Judge Lamb, who took a heavy breath before responding.
“Detective, it appears you have a lot of evidence against Doug Cagle and this 6596 number, but your connection to Isabel Compton is flimsy, at best.”
I felt my anger rising. Everything had been spelled out in exquisite detail in the affidavit, but it seemed the judge was intent on not accepting anything I’d written. Susan must’ve been able to sense my frustration, because she placed a calming hand on my forearm. I preferred that to the kick, and I took a deep breath and exhaled softly.
“Like it says in the affidavit, Isabel’s on video snorting cocaine with Ralph, which gives her the motive to want those devices destroyed,” I said patiently. “If that footage were to get out, it would destroy her dreams of ever becoming DA.”
“But to kill two men just to destroy a tape that might be used against her?” Judge Lamb shook his head. “I don’t think I see probable cause here, detective.”
“I believe Ralph was bribing her with the video in order to compel her to reduce his felony DWI charge to a misdemeanor,” I explained, a little more heatedly now. “Doug told his wife he was getting a promotion and a raise, and we were able to confirm from one of his buddies that Isabel had promised him the chief investigator job once she became district attorney. I believe it came with a price—and that price was killing Ralph and then stealing the iPad. But Doug got sloppy and Kim scratched him. His DNA will show up under Kim’s fingernails and he’ll be arrested. Isabel knows how it goes—there’s no way he would go down alone. He would make a deal and turn on her, and what prosecutor wouldn’t take it? Trading a robber for a murderer is a no-brainer. She had no choice but to kill him, and she’s the only person who could’ve gotten close enough to grab his gun.”
“You keep saying Isabel, Isabel, Isabel, but where’s the proof that it’s her?” He pounded his pale fist on affidavit on his desk. “These are words—where’s the proof? That phone number could be for anyone. The video could be of anyone. There’re at least a dozen women in this town alone who look like her.”
“Well, for one, I spoofed Doug’s phone number and called the 6596 number,” I explained as I dug though my file folder. “I called about eleven times before she finally answered. She didn’t say anything at first, but I disguised my voice and said I was a friend of Doug’s and I had to get a message to her. When she asked who it was, I recognized her voice.”
The judge wiped his face with nervous hands and said, “That’s hardly a proper identification.”
I finally located the screenshot I’d taken of Isabel’s press conference with Bill Hedd over the weekend. I pointed to the cross pinned to her blouse.
“This is the same silver cross I recovered from the ashes on the north end of town,” I explained. “She must’ve gotten Ralph’s blood on her clothes and she and Doug burned it to destroy the evidence.”
I turned to Susan and nodded. “Show him the video.”
Susan whipped out her laptop and fired it up. Judge Lamb was wringing his hands as he waited. I could tell he was highly uncomfortable. When Susan turned the laptop so he could see the screen, I watched his eyes widened as he saw a nude Isabel Compton on a large conference table with Ralph Plant. Throughout the video, they had sex, snorted cocaine, and talked out of their minds.
Later in the video, Ralph could be heard asking if she would reduce the DWI charge to a misdemeanor so he could save his bar license.
Isabel: “Ralphy, you know I can’t. I’ll have to recuse myself because we’re sleeping together. Even if we weren’t, I couldn’t do it because I’ll be running for DA soon, and I can’t have my opponent going back over my record and accusing me of being soft on DWI. Mothers Against Drunk Driving will have a field day with that. In fact, this is the last time we can see each other like this. If we get caught, it won’t look good.”
Ralph: “I was afraid you’d say that.”
Isabel: “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Ralph: “What if I tell Bill that you’re a recreational coke user? Do you think he’ll still appoint you? Do you think the Mothers would support you?”
Isabel had smiled a wicked smile and said, “He won’t believe you.”
Ralph had only nodded, but when Isabel had gotten dressed and left, he had looked right into the camera and smiled.
The date stamp on the video showed the previous week, and I recognized the location to be the conference room in his office.
“Dear Lord,” Judge Lamb said long after the video had finished playing. “Do you really think she’s capable of murder?”
“Under the right circumstances,” I said, “everyone’s capable of murder.”
CHAPTER 56
One hour later…
Isabel Compton was a smart woman, so she knew why Susan and I had appeared at the district attorney’s office looking for her. What she didn’t know—and couldn’t know—was that we had found the flash drive containing the smoking gun motive. Without that video, we could make all the accusations we wanted, but the puzzle pieces would remain scattered on the coffee table, never to be fully assembled.
“Jeez, Clint, I heard about what happened in jail, but it looks so much worse than I imagined.” She leaned in and hugged me gently, and there was nothing I could do to protest. I was too stiff to move or object. “I knew David was wrong and I tried to talk Bill out of sanctioning the warrant, but he wouldn’t listen.”
I wanted to say that the only reason she knew David was wrong was because she had sent Doug to attack Kim, but I refrained. Next, she leaned in to hug Susan, but my wife waved her off.
“Okay, then,” Isabel said, “Let’s go talk.”
Once Susan and I were seated across from Isabel, I slid the warrant and affidavit across the desktop. We had a long history together and I had a lot of respect for her, so I figured it would be best to put all the cards on the table and figure things out like adults. I didn’t want to handcuff her and parade her out of here in front of her co-workers, but if she left me no choice, that’s exactly what I planned on doing.
Her face was expressionless as she read, but when she flipped to the second page of the affidavit and made it to the bottom, her eyes widened ever so slightly. I smiled inwardly. She was just discovering for the first tim
e that we’d found the video—the one she’d tried so desperately to destroy, the one she’d killed two men to bury.
I watched quietly as several different emotions seemed to wash over Isabel’s face in rapid fashion. Finally, she checked to see if the warrant was signed, and then sighed in resignation.
“Well, it seems I’m in quite a pickle,” she said after a moment. “Where do we go from here?”
“I’d like to hear your side of the story,” I said softly. “We’ve known each other for a long time and you’ve had our backs on more than a few occasions, so I’d like to extend every courtesy possible while still doing my job.”
“Would giving me a bucket load of cash and a ride to Mexico be considered a courtesy?” she asked lightheartedly.
I smiled, amazed at how calm she was in the face of spending the rest of her life in prison. Of course, I shouldn’t have been surprised. I’d seen her coolly point her finger right in the faces of some of the parish’s most hardened criminals and ask the jury to send them away forever. She had never wavered or blinked in their presence, despite the fact that they were unchained during the trial. Sure, they wore TASER vests, but everyone knew a lot of damage could be done before the deputy hit the zapper switch.
“As much as I wish I could, I can’t.” I indicated the warrant. “You killed two men and made Doug attack Kim Plant. We can’t just make that go away.”
She leaned forward and glanced quickly at the affidavit. “Did you really find my cross?”
I nodded and fished the photo out of my file folder. I handed it to her. She frowned when she saw it.
“My mom bought me that cross when I was twelve.” There was sadness in her voice as she looked at the screenshot from Bill Hedd’s announcement. “I only wore it on special occasions, and this sure was a special occasion. I wasn’t even thinking when I took my shirt off and gave it to Doug. I’d forgotten it was on there. It was only later that I remembered.”