“The investigation stalled?”
“Not at all. The sheriff’s department found their suspect quickly. A young man originally from Texas who had come here seeking employment in oil. He had been in that bar drinking much of the day. He left shortly before the time Leah left her office. He returned some time after eleven o’clock and before midnight. He rapidly drank himself to near insensibility. Multiple witnesses described him on his return to the bar as disheveled, buttons missing from his shirt, and marks on his face.
“A button of the same size, color, and form as those on his shirt was found near Leah’s body. The marks on his face matched a ring she wore. In addition, two witnesses said he had worn a belt with his jeans before his absence from the bar. He did not have one on after.”
“DNA?”
Mrs. P’s mouth pursed slightly. “It was not as prevalent at that time. Further, the sheriff’s department did not preserve the crime scene, nor did it collect evidence as it should have.” The lines in her face deepened. “After the trial, I understand the department destroyed what evidence it did gather.”
I interrupted in surprise. “They can’t do that. They have to wait for the appeals.”
“The issue of appeals did not apply in this case. The defendant was found not guilty. That defendant was Furman York.”
Chapter Twelve
“The guy who got murdered today was the one who killed that girl?” Jennifer asked. “Wow. I really didn’t remember details. If I ever knew them. I knew he was a bad guy, not that he murdered somebody way back.”
“He was found not guilty,” Mrs. P said precisely.
Mike said, “Yeah, found not guilty, and then he went to work for the lawyer who got him off.”
“Norman Clay Lukasik got Furman York acquitted of murder?” I knew the answer before I finished my question. “Had York worked for him before the murder? Was he already foreman of the ranch?”
Diana shook her head. “Lukasik didn’t buy the ranch until later.”
“Diana is correct,” Mrs. P said. “Norman Clay Lukasik left Cottonwood County almost immediately after the verdict, establishing his practice with a base in Denver. Three years later, he purchased what is now Lukasik Ranch. Furman York returned at the same time, as an employee of the ranch.”
“Had he worked for Lukasik somewhere else in the interim?”
“I do not know what his employment status was while he was away from Cottonwood County. Nor do I know what motivated him to return. There was considerable disapproval of his presence. County leaders appealed to Norman Clay Lukasik to end Furman York’s employment. He declined without any explanation or shred of consideration for sentiment of county residents, indeed without noticeable courtesy.”
A new stiffness in her jaw pointed toward the conclusion that she’d been among the county leaders that approached him.
“Numerous letters to the editor appeared in the Independence. The sheriff’s department was called upon on numerous occasions when residents’ disapproval gave way to physical expression. A series of fires at the Lukasik Ranch only ceased when it was forcefully brought to the county’s attention that such events endangered the members of our fire department.”
Mike said, “Boy, I don’t remember any of that.”
Jennifer frowned. “Me, either. I only know Furman York’s worked at Lukasik Ranch for as long as I can remember. Way, way back, even when my brother and I were little kids, my parents told us to stay away from him. Far away. It was like he was the boogeyman or something. As a little kid, whenever there was a scary man in a story, that’s who I thought of.”
“Probably because most people in the county never stopped thinking he was guilty of murder,” Mike said.
“Yet he was acquitted,” I said. It seemed so unlikely after the story Mrs. P told. “How did that happen?”
She kept her lips closed in a firm line.
Diana said, “There’s a persistent rumor that someone or, possibly, several someones on the jury were bribed.”
“Oh, yeah,” Mike said. “I’d forgotten that part. And Hiram was on the jury.”
* * * *
“People think Hiram was bribed to get Furman York off?” I demanded, trying to reconcile that with their attitudes toward each other at the grazing association.
Could that be a motive? Killing York to keep him from revealing Hiram had accepted a bribe?
A scenario burst into my head. Hiram operating under a load of guilt for all these years finally reaching a breaking point. Taking justice into his own hands.
Having seen him in action, I had no problem imagining him taking something into his own hands, including his idea of justice and his loaded shotgun.
Could I see him waiting decades?
Diana interrupted my internal questions. “I heard Hiram was a main source for the rumors about bribery. He wouldn’t do that if he’d taken a bribe.” She paused. “Even Hiram wouldn’t do that.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t bother investigating this guy’s murder. Sounds like he finally got what he deserved,” Jennifer said.
Now Mrs. Parens spoke. “That is the way of vigilantism, Jennifer. Murder as the perpetrator’s solution to their problems or discomfort is unacceptable. It should never go uninvestigated.”
I might remind her of this statement that next time she balked at coming too close to the edge of what she considered gossip.
“The idea is that if the murder goes unsolved, other people suffer, too,” Mike said. “Being suspected when they didn’t do anything. Like Hiram.”
That did not appear to alter Jennifer’s views. “Maybe he did it.”
Diana leaned closer to her and said quietly, “There’s another reason. Tamantha’s worried about her daddy. We all know he had nothing to do with it, but the gossip…”
Jennifer relented. “Yeah. Okay.”
If Mrs. P noticed that exchange, she gave no indication of it, appearing lost in her own thoughts or memories.
Mike said, “How did Lukasik get York off? Even if someone on the jury was bribed, Lukasik needed some argument about reasonable doubt for the juror to hide behind.”
Mrs. Parens blinked, instantly back with us.
“Norman Clay Lukasik made a great deal of the mistakes made in the search. He particularly highlighted the unchecked number of people involved in it. We ordinary citizens intent on searching for a young woman were not aware of forensic issues at that time. As I said, the sheriff’s department’s methods were rudimentary and ours…”
That trailed off in a fading voice quite unlike Mrs. P.
Before any of us could react, she re-squared her shoulders and picked up briskly, “There was not the broad dissemination of information on crime, on detection methods, on forensics that there is now, especially in O’Hara Hill. We were concerned that she had fallen somehow, was lying somewhere injured. We never considered… We were far more innocent of such things at that time.
“Norman Clay Lukasik also returned incessantly to the participation of the supervisor, Mr. Erwin. Despite the evidence brought forth by the prosecution that he could not have committed the crime, Norman persistently raised him as an alternative suspect. He was particularly stringent in his cross-examination of Gisella about such matters, as if she had been in charge of the search.
“She could have been perceived as taking charge in that search, which was essential in the absence of any presence or guidance from the sheriff’s department. She was not, however, responsible for any faults in its process.”
If the others reacted the same way I did, the following silence resulted from a reluctance to make her self-conscious of such support for her rival and friend, even decades after the fact.
“The jury must have seen through all that, though, didn’t they?” Jennifer asked.
Mrs. P’s expression became … careful.
Under no circumstances would her lips be loose enough to sink a rowboat, much less a ship. Now even a toy paper boat would be safe.
&
nbsp; “I cannot say what the members of the jury saw or didn’t see. They found the defendant not guilty.”
“What was the reaction to the verdict?”
“Disbelief. Outrage.” Mrs. P using sentence fragments signaled extreme emotion. “Sorrow for Leah’s family, who had been here throughout the proceedings. Also sorrow for Gisella.”
Mike leaned forward, elbows on his thighs. His expression hidden from us.
Mrs. P cleared her throat.
“Gisella and Leah Pedroke had become quite close in a short time. During the trial, Leah’s parents stayed with Gisella, going together to the courthouse each day. She remained in touch for many years afterward, indeed until their deaths.”
I looked at Mike. So did Diana and Jennifer.
He looked at his hands, clasped between his knees. “How’d Aunt Gee take it?
“Gisella took it very much to heart. If she had not already started her training as a law enforcement dispatcher when the trial began, I cannot envision how she would have absorbed such a blow. That purpose helped her greatly.”
It was never easy — at any age — to recognize that figures from your youth, whom you always considered impregnable, were not.
“Mrs. P,” I started, drawing the others’ attention to me. “What about the attitude toward Furman York around the county now?”
“He has been widely viewed as a man who committed murder, yet escaped punishment and who, given an undeserved second chance, squandered it by being a poor neighbor.”
Wow.
For once, Mrs. P had not held back on what to my mind — much less hers — amounted to gossip. Or at least generalized sentiment picked up from casual conversation. And since she didn’t care for generalized or casual conversation, that said a lot. A whole lot.
Might as well go for more.
“What about Norman Clay Lukasik? How is he viewed?”
“The view of Norman Clay Lukasik would be as varied as the individuals of this county. Some admire his successful law practice, others do not.”
That vague response announced I’d gone a gossipy-ish question too far. Backtrack, backtrack, backtrack.
“You attended the trial?”
She nodded.
“Every day?”
A single nod.
“What were your observations of Norman Clay Lukasik as a defense attorney?” Her lips parted and I hurried to add, “In addition to what you’ve already told us.”
She closed her lips for thirty seconds.
“He showed determination throughout the trial, as well as confidence, despite testimony that knowledgeable observers said should have diminished his confidence greatly.
“Further, he was well-prepared, as demonstrated by his ability to recall details at any moment. At times, that ability appeared to lead him to change a line of questioning abruptly.”
“Was that effective?” Diana asked. “Or did it get him into trouble?”
“In most instances it was effective. I remember only once when it might be considered to have drawn him to act precipitously by underestimating his adversary, which, as you termed it, got him into trouble.”
“When was that?” Diana followed up.
“That occasion was when he cross-examined Gisella. Under Norman Clay Lukasik’s questioning the previous witness had been pulled into what could have been construed as an admission of illicit involvement with Leah. There was nothing of the sort occurring and it was not at all what the witness had meant, although persons who did not know the people involved could have come to that erroneous conclusion.
“Gisella had testified extensively under direct examination, providing a great deal of information important to the prosecution’s theory of what happened. Even an inexperienced observer would have expected Norman Clay Lukasik to immediately revisit that material in detail in an effort to reinforce the possibilities of another interpretation of the night’s events that he’d previously introduced. He did not.
“When he rose from behind the defense table, his bearing was markedly different from the other times. He did not pause to draw in the jurors, nor did he ease into the questioning, making the witness relax.”
“If he was smart, he knew Gee wouldn’t relax.”
Mike’s mutter earned a slight uptick at the corners of Mrs. P’s lips. She did not otherwise respond.
“He made me think strongly of the stalking behavior of a barn cat my family once had that was the best mouser of my experience, perhaps because it so thoroughly enjoyed the hunt.”
Her expression lightened suddenly. “However, no cat would ever mistake Gisella Decker for a mouse, which Norman Clay Lukasik apparently did, to his detriment. He attempted to pounce, disconcerting her into an admission which might reinforce the erroneous impression left by his cross-examination of the previous witness. She would have none of that. By her answers and expression, she made clear to any who might have been unaware that he was attempting manipulation of her testimony.”
“We should read the transcript.”
“I’ll get it,” Jennifer said, making a note.
“The transcript will be unable to do justice to Gisella’s domination of Norman Clay Lukasik,” Mrs. P said simply. “However, you should understand, all of you, that other than that one instance, he was relentless, even, at times, ferocious in the pursuit of his goal.”
“Was he persuasive enough to have legitimately swayed any member of the jury?”
“That is impossible to answer, Elizabeth, for it would require being inside twelve other human beings’ brains, to have lived their experiences.”
“Did he persuade you that there was reasonable doubt of Furman York’s guilt?”
“He did not.”
I nodded, satisfied.
Because I now felt confident about accepting a working premise that York was guilty of murdering Leah Pedroke — no matter what the verdict was. Also because, believing in his guilt as she did, Emmaline Parens could be nudged along to share more information than usual. With care and caution, of course. Let’s not get wild and crazy here thinking Mrs. P would pour out all secrets, opinions, and memories.
“Anything else about Lukasik?”
“He greatly enjoyed the attention of the media, which proved a harbinger for his subsequent cases.”
Was that what Needham had in mind? Not even his best performance. You should have seen him at the beginning, in all his glory.
“Jennifer, you appear to have a question.”
Mrs. P’s statement turned all attention in that direction.
“Sort of. Didn’t you say Furman York was in O’Hara Hill in the first place because he was looking for a job in oil?”
“I did.”
“Then how’d he become a ranch foreman?”
Mrs. P bestowed a look of approval on her. I might have, too.
“He sure didn’t begin as foreman,” Mike said. “Started as a hand. Not a good hand, from what I always heard. Probably needed a job. No one else would have hired him then. Maybe—”
“And even fewer now,” Diana said.
“—he and Lukasik bonded during the trial.”
A bond that didn’t mature until three years later, when Lukasik bought the ranch? Unless he’d done other work for Lukasik. Before I could raise that, Diana had another question.
“Why stay here, where people believe he got away with murder? He could have gone anywhere else.”
“Maybe he liked shoving it down people’s throats that he got away with it,” I suggested.
“Sounds like his kind of move,” Mike said.
“But that’s not what I meant about him becoming a ranch foreman,” Jennifer protested. “What I meant was why cattle, when he’d been working in oil?”
“That,” I said, “is a terrific question. And your first assignment, Jennifer. See what you can find out about Furman York before he came to Cottonwood County. Unless…?”
Mrs. Parens shook her head. “My information is limited to what appeared in the
Independence at the time.”
“A rundown of what was in the Independence back then would save me time getting started, Mrs. Parens,” Jennifer said.
“As I stated, he was from Texas. Born there, as well as receiving what education he had there. He had previously been employed in the oil industry. He was not well-regarded by those he had previously worked for or with. My understanding of their objections was that his errors in judgment and impulsiveness endangered others. That reputation followed him here to O’Hara Hill and was widely spoken of before Leah Pedroke’s murder.”
“Interesting,” I said. “I thought the West was known for letting people reinvent themselves. For accepting people as they present themselves.”
Mike grinned. “Sort of a what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas for the entire region?”
Mrs. P’s cool look silenced him. “One might wish that all that is Las Vegas would stay in Las Vegas.”
“Not a slots or shows fan, Mrs. P?” I asked.
“No.” That ended that topic. “I cannot speak for all of the western region. However, I can tell you, Elizabeth, that it is true that Cottonwood County and, I believe, the rest of Wyoming, accords newcomers the opportunity to prove who they are.”
“In other words, they get a shot here, but if they screw up, that’s that.” I tilted my head, getting another angle in the map of Wyoming on Mrs. P’s wall. “What’s interesting is whether that’s the result of a sense of fairness — wanting to offer second chances — or because Cottonwood County doesn’t think what happens outside of Cottonwood County is important enough to count?”
Reaction Shot (Caught Dead in Wyoming, Book 9) Page 7