James 516: A London Carter Novel (London Carter Mystery Series)

by BJ Bourg

  “Want something to drink?” Starla asked. “All I have is milk and beer.”

  We both declined the offer, and Bethany opened her notebook and set it on the table. “Can you begin with the night before Anthony was killed and tell us what he did leading up to the last time you saw him or spoke with him?”

  Starla propped both elbows on the table and rested her chin in her palms. “He got home from work at about seven o’clock. We ate supper and then he watched TV while I ran to the store. When I got back, he was sleeping on the couch. I left him there and went to bed. When I woke up yesterday morning, he’d already left for work. I ran some errands during the day and then I went to my sister’s in the afternoon. I’d planned to spend the night there because we were going shopping today.

  “So…I guess the last time I saw him was when I got home from the store the night before he died.” Tears welled up in Starla Landry’s eyes and rolled down her face. “Had I known what was going to happen, I would’ve stayed home and spent time with him.”

  Starla was bawling now, chin trembling, hands covering her face.

  Bethany waited patiently until Starla Landry regained her composure and then asked, “What store did you go to?”

  Starla wiped her eyes. “Excuse me?”

  Bethany glanced down at her notes. “You said you went to the store after you and Captain Landry ate supper. What store did you go to?”

  Starla stared blankly from Bethany to me and back to Bethany before she spoke. “I…I went to the store up the road. Um, Food and Stuff Supermarket.”

  “What time did you go?” Bethany asked.

  “It was after we ate, so it had to be about eight-thirty or nine o’clock.”

  “What did you buy?”

  “Buy?”

  “Yes, ma’am. What did you buy at the store?”

  Starla Landry began wringing her hands. “I don’t really remember.”

  Bethany raised a single eyebrow, fixing Starla with a cold stare. “I understand you’ve been through a lot, but we’re only talking about the night before last. Surely you remember what you bought.”

  Starla nodded nervously. “Sure, I remember, it’s just… I’ve been through a lot. Um, I bought some eggs and milk.”

  “How did you pay for it?”

  “What does that have to do with Anthony’s death?”

  “Please, Mrs. Landry, these are important questions. Even though it might not seem like it right now, they all have a purpose and they’ll help us determine what happened to your husband.”

  Starla Landry nodded her understanding. “I usually always pay with my debit card.”

  “Did you do so that night?”

  Starla nodded, then hung her head.

  “Okay,” Bethany said. “Do you have a receipt?” Before Starla could answer, Bethany waved her hand. “Never mind. I’ll get that from the bank. It’ll help us establish a hard timeline.”

  As Bethany questioned Starla Landry, I studied Starla’s face carefully. I was no detective—well, technically I was, but hadn’t been for long—but I could tell she was hiding something. I was certain Bethany was on to her as well because of the questions she was asking.

  “What time did you get home from the store?” Bethany asked.

  Starla shook her head. “I don’t remember.”

  “What car did you drive?”

  “My car. Why?”

  “The yellow one?”

  Starla nodded.

  “Okay, that’s cool if you don’t remember exactly what time you got back home. I can ask your neighbors. They might remember, and that’ll help with our timeline.” Bethany glanced over her notes. “Okay, what about yesterday…what time did you wake up?”

  “It was about nine o’clock.”

  “What did you do when you woke up?”

  “I got dressed and went to the store.”

  I thought I saw Starla wince ever slightly.

  “What store?” Bethany wanted to know.

  “Back to the grocery store.”

  “What did you get?”

  “Um, I was going to buy something for supper, but they didn’t have what I wanted.”

  “What time did you leave and get back?”

  “I left at about nine-thirty and I got back at about…” Starla’s voice trailed off.

  Bethany waited a few seconds and then pressed her. “What time did you get back? I could get it from your neighbors if you don’t remember, but I’d rather hear it from you.”

  Starla sighed. “I think it was around three.”

  “Three?” Bethany asked. “PM?”

  Starla nodded.

  Bethany brushed her hair out of her eyes. “Where else did you go beside Food-N-Stuff?”

  “I stopped by the Chinese restaurant in Payneville and got something to eat.”

  “What did you get?”

  Starla’s eyes narrowed, and I thought she was about to tell Bethany to go screw herself. “If you must know,” she retorted, “I got some rice, sweet and sour chicken and an egg roll.”

  Unfazed, Bethany continued. “Did you eat at the restaurant or did you take it to go?”

  “I took it to go.”

  “Where’d you eat it?”

  “At my house,” Starla said forcefully.

  “Did you stop anywhere else?”

  Starla shook her head.

  Bethany frowned. “I’m confused. You left your house at nine-thirty and returned at three, yet the only places you went were Food-N-Stuff, where you didn’t get anything, and the Chinese restaurant. Why’d it take you five-and-a-half hours for that?”

  Starla stood abruptly. “My husband was just killed! Murdered! Do you know what it’s like to have the sheriff come find you to tell you your husband has been killed? Do you?” Before waiting for an answer, Starla stormed to the door and jerked it open. “Get the hell out of here! I’m a victim and I will not be treated this way!”

  That went great, I thought.

  Bethany slowly closed her notebook and stood to leave. I followed her to the door and almost bumped into her backside when she stopped directly in front of Starla.

  “You are a victim,” Bethany said, “but you’re acting like a suspect. If I find out you’re lying to me, I’ll bring the full force of the sheriff’s office down on top of your ass for impeding a murder investigation. You might care more about your secret life than you do about your husband’s murder, but my number one priority is finding Anthony Landry’s killer, and I’ll smash anyone who gets in my way.”

  Starla’s eyes widened; her lower lip trembled. She asked what I was thinking. “How…how did you know?”

  Bethany’s face softened. She reached out and touched Starla’s forearm. “Look, I know it’s not easy to admit to something like this, especially in light of what’s happened, but I need to know everything. It’s the only way I can conduct a thorough investigation and locate your husband’s killer. If I have to go around you to get the information I need, I’m wasting valuable time.”

  Starla Landry buried her face in her hands and wept. Bethany wrapped an arm around her and guided her back to the table. “It’s okay,” Bethany said. “Take your time.”

  When Starla had settled down somewhat, she began to talk in a low voice. “It started last year. I met someone at an awards banquet for the sheriff’s office. We danced for a couple of songs, and he started flirting with me. I thought it was all innocent and fun. That night he came over to the house, and we all played cards—”

  “Where was your husband?” Bethany asked.

  “Oh, Anthony was there. It was the three of us playing cards.” Starla wiped her face free of a stream of tears, but it only served to make room for more. “Anthony drank a lot that night and got up at some point to use the bathroom. When he didn’t come back, I went check on him and found him in the bed. He was fully clothed, passed out on top of the bedspread.”

  “What was your new friend doing at this point?” Bethany asked.

 
“He…he had followed me to the bedroom and when he saw Anthony, he walked up behind me and started rubbing my back and my neck. It was kind of awkward—with Anthony lying there—so we went back to the living room. He kept rubbing on me and touching me and he tried to kiss me a few times. I told him no at first, but I was a bit drunk, too, and I eventually gave in.” Starla was sobbing again.

  “We…had sex in the living room that night,” Starla said between sobs. “And I saw… We began seeing each other on a regular basis.”

  Bethany put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her. “The day your husband was killed, were you with this guy?”

  Starla nodded.

  I felt my blood boiling. I didn’t know if it showed in my face, but I wanted Bethany to slap the shit out of this adulterous whore. On the very day her husband’s brains were sprayed across Betty Jo’s parking lot, she was out screwing some dude she’d met at a sheriff’s office function.

  “This mystery man,” Lieutenant Riggs said softly. “Does he have a name?”

  Starla nodded slowly, not looking up. In a muffled voice, she said a name.

  “Wait,” Bethany said. “I couldn’t hear what you said. Can you speak up?”

  “Ken…Kenneth Lewis. He’s a sniper with the sheriff’s office.”

  CHAPTER 8

  I suddenly felt dizzy…sick even.

  Lieutenant Bethany Riggs continued to question Starla Landry, but I was hearing none of it. Everything was a blur—one that was lasting longer than I could stand. I wanted to immediately rush out of the house and go find Kenneth. I wanted to beat his ass for having an affair with Captain Landry’s wife. If he would betray his own captain, a friend, a fellow officer—who wouldn’t he betray?

  Bethany’s voice suddenly cut through my evil thoughts and her question turned my blood to icicles.

  “Ms. Landry,” she said, “it’s very important that you think really hard about my next question before answering. Okay?”

  Starla nodded.

  “Has Kenneth Lewis ever said anything about wanting your husband dead? Anything at all?”

  Starla immediately shook her head. “No, never.”

  “Did he ever ask you to leave Anthony?”

  Starla hesitated, then slowly nodded. “He did say he’d leave his wife if I left Anthony.”

  Bethany looked at me briefly, then turned her attention back to Starla Landry. “When did he tell you this?”

  Starla shrugged. “I don’t remember the first time, but he started saying it a lot during the past few weeks. He even told me he loved me.”

  “How did you respond?”

  “I told him he couldn’t leave his wife and I couldn’t leave my husband. I told him I wanted things to stay as they were. He seemed cool with it.” Starla nodded her head slowly. “Yes, he was definitely cool with it. He knew I loved Anthony despite our problems and he would never have done anything to hurt me.”

  “What about Anthony? Would he ever do anything to hurt Anthony?”

  “No, he knew hurting Anthony would hurt me, so he would never—”

  “Well, somebody did,” I interrupted. “Other than Kenneth, is there anyone else who’d want to see Anthony out of the way…for any reason?”

  Starla shook her head. Bethany glared at me. I guess she was pissed about me cutting into her interview, but I was beyond caring about anything except getting my hands around Kenneth’s throat. I leaned across the table and stared Starla Landry directly in the eyes. “So, if what you’re saying is true, Kenneth is the only person who would possibly have a reason to kill Anthony?”

  Starla’s eyes slowly widened as realization started to set in. “You…you really think he did this?”

  Bethany cut in. “So, instead of being at Food-N-Stuff’s or the Chinese restaurant…”

  Starla frowned, nodded. “I was with Kenneth. We’d either meet at my sister’s house in Doveport or at his brother’s apartment in Chateau. I usually just told Anthony I was at the store or at my sister’s. He’d never question me. I guess he trusted me.”

  “What time did you last see Kenneth yesterday?”

  Starla rubbed her face with both hands, as though her cheeks had fallen asleep and she was trying to rub them awake. “Um, I’d picked up lunch for us, and he met me in the Food-N-Stuff parking lot. I left my car there and jumped in with him and we went to the Payneville Park. We spent most of the day there and then he dropped me off at my car about two-thirty. That was the last time I saw him. He was supposed to meet me at my sister’s house last night, but…”

  “But what?” Bethany asked.

  “He never arrived.”

  “That bastard lied to me!” I blurted. I turned to Starla. “He said you went to his house last night because his wife went out of town.”

  “I’ve never been to his house.” Starla’s face suddenly twisted into a scowl. “His wife was out of town? He didn’t tell me that.”

  Bethany stood and fished a business card from her back pocket. She handed it to Starla. “Call me if you think of anything else.”

  I followed Bethany to her car and we got in without saying a word. She pulled out of the driveway and headed south on Highway Three until we reached Highway Twelve. She took the onramp and headed west. I finally broke the silence to ask where we were headed, but I already knew the answer.

  “The rifle range.” She didn’t take her eyes off the road as she rapidly picked up speed. “Kenneth Lewis has some explaining to do.”

  I only nodded.

  I felt Bethany steal a quick glance at me. “You okay with this? Or do I need to get a new partner?”

  “I’m okay with what we have to do, but I’m not okay with having been a fool for all this time.”

  “So, you didn’t know about the affair?”

  I jerked around in my seat to stare at Bethany. “Hell no, I didn’t know about it! I would’ve kicked Kenneth’s backstabbing ass had I known and I would’ve thrown him off the team. In our line of work, you have to be able to trust the man next to you one hundred percent, and that’s a bit hard to do when you’re sleeping with your partner’s wife. Shit, that’s the ultimate betrayal.” I shook my head, still trying to wrap my mind around what I’d just learned. “Captain Landry was like a father to us. As a team, he gave us everything we asked for and always covered our asses. I can’t believe Kenneth would betray him like that.”

  “Look, you’re too close to the situation—on both sides—so it’ll probably be best if you stay out of the interview.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Right…like you were back there with Starla Landry?” Bethany shook her head. “Nope, I want you outside the room on this one. You can hang out in the observation room and watch the interview, but I can’t afford any outbursts from you.”

  I started to argue, but something told me I wouldn’t get very far with Lieutenant Bethany Riggs. “Okay,” was all I said. And then, “How’re we going to handle this?”

  “We’ll ask him to voluntarily come with us to CID.”

  “If he refuses?”

  “I’ll make a phone call to the sheriff, and he’ll be fired immediately. At that point, we’ll put a tail on him and apply for an arrest warrant. Once the judge signs it, we’ll take him into custody and interrogate him.”

  “Wait a minute…an arrest warrant? We don’t have a shred of proof he did it. All we have is speculation, and I’m still not positive Kenneth’s capable of murder.”

  “You don’t need to be positive. All we need is probable cause, and I think we can easily pass that test.”

  “How? With what?”

  “He’s got motive to want Landry dead, he’s got the unique ability to pull off the shot and we just stomped a giant mud hole in his alibi. If you ask me, we’ve got more than enough for a warrant.”

  “There is one thing that doesn’t fit.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I train our snipers to aim for the bridge of the nose when making a frontal shot to the head. Capta
in Landry was shot in his left eye.”

  “So? What’s the difference?”

  “Aiming at the left eyeball—or the right one—is okay if you’re in the military and you’re only shooting at targets of opportunity. If you pull your shot a little to the left you might graze the outer edge of his head and a follow-up shot would be necessary, but the consequences are nil. The worst thing that could happen is you don’t get credit for a kill.” I shook my head. “Law enforcement snipers don’t have the luxury of missing. If they pull their shot and inflict anything less than an instantaneous kill shot, hostages could die…and that’s not acceptable. By aiming at the bridge of the nose, you allow yourself some wiggle room. Pulling slightly to the left or right will still impact within the cranial vault and you’ll drop your bad guy instantly.”

  “So, based on just that, you think Kenneth Lewis didn’t kill Captain Landry?”

  “I’m just saying it goes against his training.”

  Bethany was thoughtful for a while and then said, “He could’ve changed his aiming point just to throw us off. Think about it. If you were known for shooting people between the eyes, would you go out and shoot someone between the eyes? No…you’d shoot them through the mouth—or something different—just to throw off the investigators. You wouldn’t want to leave a note saying it was you who did it.”

  “I guess you’re right.” I stared at the trees that blurred by, but didn’t see them. “I can’t believe I never picked up on it. He never seemed like the murdering type. Sure, he could take a shot to save a life, but he doesn’t have a mean bone in his body.”

  “If priests can rape little boys,” Bethany explained, “no one’s safe.”

  She was right, of course. Every time there was a news story about some unsuspecting person committing a heinous crime—especially child molestation or rape—family members and friends would jump in front of the camera to express sincere shock that their loved one could do something so egregious. If there was one thing I learned after doing police work for twelve-plus years, it was that no one truly knew their neighbors or their friends—or their families. After working cases where fathers raped their daughters and mothers killed their children, nothing was sacred, and nothing surprised me anymore. I just couldn’t believe I’d been so blind.