This wasn’t a court of law. I didn’t have to prove anything. Hanging with Charles Zane was enough for me to consider you suspicious and get you on my wall. I looked at it again. It was a mystery unfolding in real time and the most interesting case I’d ever worked. By far.
I took a picture of the collage. What I wanted to do more than anything was send it to Detective Ray Kintner. But I knew I couldn’t. The photos of Zane and his cohorts were probably enough to get me re-arrested. I’d probably lose Gary Rodgers as an attorney as well, on account of him defending an idiot who wouldn’t listen.
Couldn’t argue with that.
My mind turned to the older lady who lived between Aubrey Durban and James Neil. Annie Ivers.
I recreated our conversation, trying to go through the whole thing. And I realized something didn’t feel right. I remembered asking her if anything suspicious happened, and she replied, “Not on that Saturday” or something similar.
Aubrey and James’s bodies weren’t found till Monday. Would Annie know they had died on Saturday and not Sunday or early Monday? It’s possible, but the way she’d adamantly said Saturday stuck with me.
She appeared to be an honest old lady. And maybe she was. But I had become a bit suspicious.
Time to go back and visit her. With a little more skepticism this time.
I didn’t think she’d call the cops on me, but considering my face appeared on the news occasionally, I couldn’t be sure. I was definitely taking a risk.
But I’d be knocking on her door, and soon. Of that, there was no doubt.
I put on some quiet jazz music to fall asleep, hoping it would calm down my wandering mind. It didn’t work, and I was up till 2:00 a.m.
I woke up at 10:00 a.m. and the logical thing would have been to wait until later in the day, when the sun went down. Make it less likely that the Andersons would spot me at Annie’s.
But I hadn’t been logical in weeks. Why start now?
Arriving in Oakland, I knew I had two options, and neither one appealed to me. I’d tailed Doug Anderson and even though I didn’t think he’d seen me, I didn’t like having my car on his street. The alternative was parking far away and walking to Annie’s house, out for anybody to see. That didn’t sound much better.
I decided to split the difference, parking at the beginning of Oakland Avenue, where the Andersons would only see my car if they drove past. They couldn’t see it from their home. I still had to walk a good two hundred yards to Annie’s house, but I wouldn’t be passing by the Andersons’.
I had brought a hat and pulled it down over my head. I wore tan cargo shorts, an LCD Soundsystem t-shirt, and flip-flops. Being unemployed did have one advantage. I could dress however the hell I wanted.
I pulled my hat tighter as I approached Annie’s home. If one of the Andersons was peering in my direction, I planned to make it tough for them to see my face. A very good chance remained that they had no idea who I was, but I wasn’t taking any chances.
On the third knock, Annie answered her front door. She wore sweats and a stained t-shirt. She didn’t look very good.
“Hi, Annie, do you remember me?”
“Quinn, right?”
“Very close. Quint.”
She walked a few steps out and immediately looked over toward the Andersons’ home. It had to mean something.
“It’s cold outside. Why don’t you come in?” she said.
It wasn’t cold. It was already seventy on what was going to be an eighty-plus day. She acted very suspiciously, but if it was just a ploy to get me out of the Andersons’ line of sight, I was fine with it.
“Thanks,” I said. No reason to rock the boat. Yet.
She brought me into her home. It wasn’t a pleasant sight. Crap lined the floor everywhere. Clothes. Newspapers (uh-oh). Even a few plates and bowls.
She led me to the left, away from the messiest part. We passed by the kitchen and I took a quick peek to see dishes stacked high in the sink. A slight smell emanated from it.
We ended up in what appeared to be a family room. It was the cleanest area I’d seen, but I would hardly call it immaculate. It held a T.V., two recliners, and a rectangular coffee table. She sat in one recliner and pointed me to the second. It seemed odd not to have a couch in the room, but if she lived alone, I guess I could understand why.
“I’m sorry for the way the house looks,” she said.
“I didn't even notice.” I smiled.
I had to be as charismatic as possible. The newspapers spread around likely included an article about me. I had a hard time believing she didn’t know the trouble I was in.
But why would she invite a murder suspect into her house?
“I’ve been a little down lately. And cleaning up the place just doesn’t seem all that appealing.”
“I’m not judging. You should see my apartment,” I said, even though my place was spick and span.
“Thanks for understanding,” she said.
“Of course.”
I could tell she had something to tell me and we were just getting the small talk out of the way.
“I know all about you,” she finally said.
It was hard to tell whether it was accusatory or sympathetic. Considering she’d invited me into her home, I leaned toward the latter.
“Been a rough few weeks,” I said, trying to be vague in case, by some chance, she was talking about something different.
“And I think you’re innocent.”
There could be no misinterpreting that.
“I am,” I said. “That’s why I’m here.”
“You think the murders of Griff Bauer and my neighbors are related?”
“I do.”
Annie didn’t seem like the gossiping type, but I had to watch what I said. I had to walk the line between getting information and trying not to give away much myself.
“Why do you think that?”
At this point, I had to give her at least something. “Don’t repeat this, obviously, but some people view Griff Bauer as a suspect in the murders here.”
She let out a sigh. “Then why would you kill him? Isn’t his killer more likely someone affiliated with the murders here?”
“Want to be co-counsel in my case?”
Annie laughed quite loudly, and in that moment, I knew she was on my side. “Hopefully it never goes to trial. I haven’t heard much about it lately. What’s going on?”
This was certainly not where I thought this conversation was going, but I felt fine with it. I could tell she had something to tell me so I didn’t mind this little song and dance we were doing.
“I appear back in court in a few days.”
“I’ll be rooting for you.”
“Thanks,” I said and knew this was the time. “Do you know anything that might help my defense?”
She squirmed a little in her chair. “Do you know the real reason my house is a mess? Because I’m a nervous wreck.”
I didn’t interrupt because I knew she was about to drop a bomb on me. I just hoped it was a big one.
“I’ve been contemplating going to the police,” she continued. “But I’m scared.”
I felt it was time to jump in. “What is it, Annie?”
“It wasn’t just Aubrey and James. I saw something too.”
My heart started beating faster. “What did you see?”
“You have to understand why I didn’t go to the cops. My neighbors had been killed for seeing the same thing. I didn’t want to join them.”
“I understand completely,” I said, and meant it.
Annie buried her face in her hands and started weeping. She gained control soon thereafter and looked directly at me. “I saw a young girl running in just her bra and panties out on the street. She looked scared.”
“You’re kidding me,” I said, even though I knew she wasn’t. Two people had been killed over what they saw, so I knew it had to be something major. And there was the suspicious “rape van.” But still, hearing a young
girl had been running away from something made it hit home. In the worst way.
“No. But I thought my eyes were at first. It was probably around 7:00 p.m., just starting to get dark. I was asleep. What can I say, I’m an old lady and sometimes I just fall asleep. I was woken up by the sound of screaming. I got out of bed and saw a young girl running on the street. I didn’t turn on my lights, thank goodness. For all I know that saved my life. A few seconds later, Aubrey and James pulled up in their car as the woman passed my house, headed toward theirs. She flagged them down and I saw the three of them talking. At that point, I wasn’t as worried. Maybe she was a friend of theirs? If not, I was sure they would do the right thing. There was nothing else I could do at that point, so I went back to sleep.”
Annie grabbed a bottled water from the table near her and took a sip. “I didn’t think much of it the next day, which was Sunday. I hadn’t heard anything and I took that as good news. If I’d seen Aubrey or James I would have asked them. But I didn’t see them. Then I woke up early Monday morning and there were cop cars, an ambulance, and the medical examiner’s van outside and I knew it had something to do with Saturday night.”
I went over the timeline in my head. Aubrey and James see the girl on Saturday night, the same night they are tortured and killed. Obviously, Anderson alerted someone immediately. Time was of the essence and if they called 9-1-1 right away, Anderson was fucked. So the Andersons likely call Griff Bauer to do the job and then he ends up in the hospital after crashing near their home. And by crashing near the murder site, Griff Bauer had become a liability. So he was killed.
Aubrey must have told Tricia what they’d seen before they were attacked on Saturday. Maybe she’d called her immediately, thinking she had to tell someone. Though just a guess, it made sense. And when the killers found out Tricia Knox knew, they had to do away with her.
Annie saw me trying to piece it all together. When I looked up, she had something else she wanted to say.
“Should I have gone to the police at that point? The obvious answer is yes. But I was sure Aubrey and James had been killed because of what they saw. Did I want to be next? No. So I kept my mouth shut. And it’s why I lied when we first met.”
Who was I to judge? I’d been less than truthful with the police as well. And my life hadn’t been at risk. At least, not at first.
“You were in a no-win situation, Annie. No one can blame you for not doing anything. You’re probably alive today because of it.”
Her eyes began to water again.
“You didn’t see the girl come from the Andersons house, though?” I asked.
“No, I just saw her out on the main street. But she was running from the direction of the Andersons’. And the yelling had woken me up. She had to have been fighting with someone.”
“Have you ever seen anything suspicious coming from the Andersons’?”
“I’ve seen that stupid van leave abruptly at weird times of the night. Does that count?”
“Absolutely.”
I suddenly regretted coming to Annie’s during the daytime. I couldn’t risk having the Andersons seeing me here. If my suspicions were correct, she’d be in grave danger. As would I, but I could live with that.
“Can I get your phone number, Annie? I think it might be better if we talk over the phone in the future.”
She told me her cell number. “I have a house phone, but if I’m not here, the cell is a better option.”
“I’m not going to tell the cops. I’ll leave that up to you. But I might have my lawyer contact you over the phone. Would that be alright?”
“That would be fine,” she said.
But her body language told a different story.
“Thanks for everything, Annie. I’m going to get out of here, but I don’t want to walk out your front door. Do you have a door that opens on the opposite side of the Andersons’ home?”
She nodded. I didn’t have to explain my reasons why.
“Yeah. There’s a door that opens from the kitchen. It heads toward Aubrey and James’s home and the Andersons won’t be able to see you.”
“Good, I’ll go that way.”
We both stood up from our recliners and Annie instigated a long hug. Ironically, the man accused of murder was now doing the consoling.
“Everything is going to be okay,” I said, not sure I truly believed it. But it sounded like the right thing to say.
“I hope you’re right.”
“I’ll be in touch. In the meantime, I’d try to lay low and not interact with the Andersons if you can avoid it.”
“Gladly,” she said.
She grabbed my arm and led me to the kitchen, opening the door.
“Thank you for everything, Annie. This may just be the information that keeps me out of jail.”
“You’re welcome, Quint. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you earlier.”
“Don’t be. You had no choice. We’ll talk soon,” I said and walked out of her house.
25.
I woke up Monday, the day after my monumental meeting with Annie. I was due in court at 9:00 a.m. the next morning, but had to talk to Gary Rodgers first. I called him and rehashed what had happened at Golden Gate Fields as well as Annie’s home.
He reprimanded me to no end, but I could tell part of him was impressed by the lengths I was going to.
“What does this all mean?” I asked as our conversation wound down.
“For tomorrow, it means nothing. They will not recant the murder charge no matter what I stand up and say. However, as far as the bigger picture goes, I would say that you’ve found yourself mixed up in something much bigger than yourself. It’s becoming harder and harder to deny that,” he said.
“I just wish I knew what this was all about. What was the underlying crime? I could draw conclusions about the girl running, but I couldn’t be positive.”
“I’m going to tell you this for the umpteenth time, Quint. You need to stop investigating this. While the case won’t be tossed out tomorrow, we have many things in our favor once we get to trial.”
“That’s great news,” I said.
“But it won’t do us any good if you’re dead.”
I didn’t respond at first and Gary’s words just sat there in the air.
Finally, I said, “I promise I won’t do anything before court tomorrow morning.”
“It’s a start.”
And I stuck to my words. I remained in my apartment all day, readying myself for what was to come.
Less than twenty-four hours later, I put on a suit for the first time in several weeks. I chose a dark, conservative one, seeing no need to draw attention to myself as a defendant. I threw on a light blue tie, a brown belt, and some brown dress shoes. On any other occasion, I’d have been pretty excited about how I looked.
I left my apartment at 7:00 a.m., walking down the long hall and taking the elevator to underground parking. I could have taken BART into Oakland, but I didn’t want to face the chance of anyone recognizing me, so I drove myself. I arrived a little after 8:00, which was fine as the hearing didn’t start until 9:00.
I called Gary Rodgers and told him I was sitting outside the Hall of Justice. He told me he’d be arriving shortly and we could meet at a Starbucks across the street from the courthouse.
I got my half-caf Americano right as he walked in. He carried a huge leather briefcase and wore a dark blue suit and a yellow tie. He looked like your stereotypical lawyer with the briefcase, but I knew he was better than most. I was lucky to have him on my side. For the legal aspect, obviously, but he’d also put up his own home to bail me out. I could never repay him for that.
“Nervous?” he asked.
“I wouldn’t be human if I wasn’t,” I said.
“Well, considering some of your recent actions, I wasn’t quite sure you were human.”
“It’s hard for me to just sit and watch.”
“You’re lucky to have remained a free man.”
“I know.”
<
br /> “We’re going to have a huge sit-down soon, maybe tomorrow, and talk more about all that’s happened. But today, let’s just play it by the book.”
“Alright,” I said.
“They will call you up and you’ll join me. The DA will lay out the evidence they have against you. They won’t show their entire hand, but they will give enough so that the judge has no choice but to support the DA’s decision. They will set a trial date. We can either ask for more time or ask to expedite it.”
“I’d rather expedite it.”
“How did I know you were going to say that?”
“I’m innocent. The sooner that people know that, the better.”
“You’re not guilty.” He smiled. “Okay, we’ll ask for a trial date sooner rather than later. And once that is done, the DA will turn over some of the discovery they have. More discovery will trickle in over the coming week or two, but we’ll at least have a general idea of the case they have.”
“Or don’t have,” I said.
Rodgers smiled timidly, as if he knew people who’d been convicted on less.
“Let’s not get too cocky, Quint. They still likely have your DNA, a motive they believe, and no alibi on your end. So let’s give the prosecution due respect.”
“I understand. I’m not getting cocky. I just know I have the truth on my side.”
“That will get you halfway there.”
I was going to ask what he meant, but he rose from his seat. “Let’s get to the courtroom before the press starts showing up,” he said.
That sounded good to me. We walked across the street, toward the gray, impersonal six-story building. We walked through security and took the elevator to the third floor, where the Alameda County Superior Courthouse had their courtrooms.
Lawyers milled around with their clients, just waiting for the doors to their respective courtrooms to open. I noticed a few media members with their cameramen, and a few looks in my direction as I made my way toward Courtroom #23.
Revenge at Sea: (Quint Adler Book 1) Page 16