by C L Hart
“Between you and me, she didn’t do it. So why do you say strange one?”
“Whatever, I’m sure she had her reasons.” Dot looked at Lincoln. “There were a lot of things about him that were strange, creepy and strange, but you know...it’s kinda hard to remember.”
Lincoln turned his back to her, pulled out his wallet and removed two bills, then returned his wallet to his pocket before he turned back to her. “Will this help your memory?” he asked, waving the two bills.
“Not only will it help, it will rewrite it, honey. Just tell me what you need and that’s what I’ll remember,” she said with a wide smile as she reached for the money.
Lincoln pulled it out of her reach. “That’s not what I need, Dot. I need the truth. Do you even remember the truth?”
“Of course I do,” she said in an injured tone. “He kept strange hours, like he never worked.”
“He didn’t work, that isn’t strange,” Lincoln said disappointedly.
“Okay, how about the fact that he never took anything in or out of his room, except for the day he got here?” Dot looked to Lincoln for a response, but he had no idea what to say. “Nothing, man. As in, not laundry, not garbage. Nothing in or out.” She ticked them off on her fingers as Lincoln’s brow furrowed with each item she mentioned. “We never once saw him bring in any groceries, no food, nothing, nada...not even a pizza box. What do you make of that, Mister Investigator Man?”
“That is strange,” Lincoln said as he walked over to the window again. Though his view was limited, he still couldn’t see any sign of anything personal. Dot was right, there was no sign of clothing or evidence of food. “Did he ever have any visitors?” he asked as he returned to where Dot was standing.
“Nope, well other than that cop chick.”
“So you saw her here?”
“Saw her? Heard her! Christ, half the complex heard her kick in the door.”
From where he stood he could see the door had been forced open. “Did you tell the cops that?”
“Nope.” Reluctantly, he handed Dot her money.
She folded up the bills and then shoved them down deep into her visible cleavage. “They never asked.”
♥
Lincoln wheeled his car into the prison parking lot, cursing silently to himself for being late. Nathan had said to meet him there fifteen minutes ago, and he hated to keep people waiting. He quickly signed in and attached his visitor’s pass, and then hustled down the hallway toward the interview rooms.
“Sorry I’m late, Nathan,” he said as he opened the door.
The lawyer lifted his head and waved off the apology. “Don’t worry about it. How did you make out?”
Lincoln quickly filled him in on his discussion with the motel manager, Dot, and the information he had obtained from the bank manager.
“How did you do with forensics?” Lincoln asked as he pulled out a chair to sit down.
Nathan never got a chance to answer. Abby, in her bright orange jumpsuit, shuffled past the window toward them.
“I hate to see her like this,” Lincoln muttered, judging from the look on Nathan’s face that he wasn’t the only one.
They could see the physical toll that prison was taking on Abby. It wasn’t just in her appearance, it was also in the way she was holding herself. Her shoulders slumped and her feet shuffled. It was easy to see she was beyond caring.
The guard escorted her to her chair and undid her cuffs. No one said a word as Abby settled herself and the guard left the room. As she glanced from one to the other, her instincts told her something was up. “So, how are my two favorite men?”
Nathan motioned for Lincoln to start. “Let’s see. Concerned, confused, angry. Where would you like me to start?”
Her features changed instantly, “Start with what? What are you talking about?”
Nathan tossed out a still copy of the black and white photo from the ATM camera. “This.”
Abby reached for the picture and studied it before she flipped it back on the table. “I’ve no idea what this is.”
“This is a still we got off a videotape, a tape the police retrieved from the ATM camera that is across from the Hasty Motel.”
“And the significance of that is what?” She looked to them for answer. “It’s not me.”
“Isn’t it? Would you like us to bring in the entire video tape?” Nathan snapped.
“There are witnesses that’ll state you kicked in his door at around 10:30pm the night he was murdered, and that’s the motel where there was a camera across the street, a camera that took your picture coming and going on the very night you told me you were in bed!” Lincoln uncharacteristically slammed his hand on the table.
“Abby?” Nathan asked quietly. She didn’t respond, but he knew that she had heard him.
Lincoln yanked his tie loose and fumbled to unbutton the top button of his shirt. Abby pushed her chair back and dropped her head into her hands. “Abby, did you go and see him that night?”
“No.”
Lincoln jumped to his feet, scooting his chair loudly across the floor. “Abby, talk to me, talk to us.” There was no response as she sat silent, unmoving. “Do you want me to leave so you can talk to your uncle?” Lincoln looked to Nathan for help, but he was at a loss as well.
Lincoln crouched down next to her, “You’ve got to help us here, kiddo.”
She finally lifted her head and shook her hair from her pale face. Lincoln reached over and placed a hand on her forearm. “Abby, pictures don’t lie.”
“But I do, is that what you’re implying?”
The intense stares from both of them were more than she could handle. “I did not go and see him, all right?” Standing up, she walked over to the edge of the room and stood with her back to them. It was a long quiet moment before she turned to them and said. “I didn’t. That,” she pointed to the picture on the table, “is not me.”
They looked from her dispirited face to the photo.
“If I can’t get the two of you, one who knows me better than anyone and the other my only living relative, if I can’t get the two of you to believe in my innocence, then how in the hell am I going to convince a jury?”
Without saying a word, Lincoln picked up the picture for the hundredth time and studied its grainy subject.
“The tape came from where?” she asked him.
“There’s a bank across the street from the motel. It’s from their ATM camera,” Lincoln said.
“Could it be a fake?”
“No, the tape is real,” Lincoln said before he turned to Abby. “After we saw the tape, I went to the bank and to the motel and both verified that ‘someone’ fitting your description kicked in Ward’s door at around 10:30.”
“It may’ve been somebody, but it sure as hell wasn’t me.”
“Then who?” Nathan asked. Neither of them answered.
“Sitting in here, my mind goes in directions it shouldn’t. One minute I’m thinking the entire department is conspiring against me, and now some camera at a bank has a picture—” Abby stopped abruptly.
“What is it?” Lincoln said.
“What bank is it?” Her eyes searched the floor as her mind worked around a piece of information.
“It’s a...Great Pacific Trust,” Lincoln read off a stack of papers. “Why?”
“What bank does Frank Sabatini work for?”
Everyone froze at the thought.
“Shit, I don’t know. Hang on,” Lincoln quickly flipped through his small notebook. “Son of a bitch.” He looked at his partner. “Great Pacific Trust.”
♥
They spent the hour going over points of the case, but Abby was only half listening. She would come and sit at the table, but after several minutes would get up and start pacing, only to stop and go back to leaning against the wall. It reminded Lincoln of a caged animal, unsure of what to do behind bars.
Several times Nathan and Lincoln exchanged glances over Abby’s lack of interest, but noth
ing was said. Finally, Nathan gave Lincoln a nod toward the door.
Taking his cue, Lincoln stood up. “I need a break here. Anyone want a coffee or anything?”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll have a coffee,” Nathan said.
“Abby?”
“Huh?” She looked up from the table.
“I’m going for coffee, you want anything? Coffee, tea...” He expected one of her usual witty comebacks, but there wasn’t one.
Nathan waited for the door to close and for the room to still before he put down his glasses to look at his niece. “Talk to me,” he said, “as an uncle, not as a lawyer.”
Abby looked up in surprise. “About what?”
“I’m here to defend you on a first degree murder charge where a conviction would mean the death penalty, and you seem more interested in the finish on the table than in what Lincoln and I are discussing.” She looked at her uncle but said nothing. “For the love of God, Abby, are you even listening to me? We’re it. We’re the only family left, and if you don’t start giving us some answers, I’ll be the only one left. Get your head in the game, Abby!”
“It is.”
Her response was not what he had hoped for. Nathan was looking for her to fight, to stand up and yell back, but she didn’t. “I don’t think it is. I think you’re ready to give up.” Nathan reached over and closed his briefcase.
“Give up — is that what you think? That I’ve given up?” she finally fired back at him. “How the hell can I give up? I’ve nothing left to give up!”
Nathan wanted a reaction and he was finally getting one.
“Everything I had is gone — my job, my reputation, everything I owned! He burned down my house, he killed my dog, and he even tried to kill—” Her voice cracked and she quickly stood up from the table, unable to finish.
Nathan followed her and placed a hand on her arm. “Yes, Abby, he tried, but he failed. Sarah is alive.”
“She almost died because of me.”
“Not because of you, because of Billy. Because of you, she’s still alive.”
But Abby’s mind was on a different track. “Maybe it’s better this way. If she stays away, she could put all this behind her and try to forget the whole thing happened.” Abby’s voice was dripping with self-pity.
“I don’t think that’s the case here.” Nathan’s voice was soothing and calm, a sharp contrast to the erratic emotions displayed by Abby. “That is the furthest thing from her mind. Sarah is not going to forget what happened, and she certainly isn’t going to forget you.”
“If she’s smart, she will. What he did to her because of me...” Abby couldn’t finish.
“What he has done is in the past, he can never do it again,” Nathan challenged. “That alone should ease your mind.”
“Ease my— I’m in jail for his murder!” Abby’s head snapped around, her dark eyes black with fury. “Ease my mind, what the hell do you know about easing my mind? Your answer to everything is just to pack up and move it. Forget about the consequences, to hell with your responsibilities, just run away and let someone else pick up the pieces.”
“Abby, that’s not fair,” he fired back, his own temper rising. “This has nothing to do with the past. I did what I thought was best.”
“Nothing to do with the past! Are you fucking kidding me?” Her voice rose as she struggled with her words.
“I’m sorry about what happened, but there was nothing else I could do.”
“So you say, Nathan. I’ve heard all of this before, and it’s bullshit. There was a lot you could have fuckin’ done, but you didn’t. Instead, you picked me up, you shipped me off, and then you left me to deal with it all by myself. By myself! How old was I? I didn’t know what to do. I just did what the doctors told me to do, and look where it left me!”
“You can’t put all of that on my shoulders, Abby,” Nathan protested.
“Can’t I? Why not? Maybe it’s time for the world to know what happened!” she shouted.
“What happened then has nothing to do with this now.” His voice had become just as loud as hers.
“I was a child!”
“And I did what I thought was best!”
“You ran away!”
“And you think there’s something I can do to change it now? Goddamn it, Abby, be reasonable!”
“I can’t. My entire fucking life is now being played out in the press. I don’t see your name in there anywhere.”
Coming down the hall, Lincoln heard their voices at the same time the guard on duty did.
Looking through the window, they heard Abby holler something at Nathan, then pick up one of the chairs and toss it against the back wall. The noise sent Lincoln and the guard rushing into the room just as Nathan slapped Abby across the face. She instantly retaliated with the back of her hand to her uncle’s nose. The room erupted in chaos. The guard went after Abby as Lincoln called out to her, but her angry eyes were locked on her uncle’s and she didn’t see the guard until he grabbed her and slammed her up against the wall. Instinctively, Lincoln went to her defense, but Nathan was there to hold him back. Acting out of self-preservation, Abby drove her elbow into the guard’s nose just as his backup came through the door.
“Abby, don’t fight them. Abby!” Lincoln yelled as the three guards took her to the floor. Lincoln tried to take another step forward, but Nathan pulled him back out of the way. The lawyer knew how desperately Lincoln wanted to help his partner, but he also knew they couldn’t get involved. Lincoln looked to Nathan who appeared to be just as frustrated and upset as Abby and Lincoln combined.
“Abby, please...don’t. Just go with them.”
“Abby, stop!”
Lincoln’s command finally got through to her and she stopped resisting. Her lip was split and her nose was bloodied, and she glared at her uncle while they shackled her. Neither said a word until she pulled her focus from Nathan and turned it to Lincoln. “Get me another lawyer,” she snarled to Lincoln as she spat a mouthful of blood to the ground.
“That’s enough out of you, Stanfield,” one of the guards said as they hauled her from the room.
Lincoln attempted to follow, but was stopped by the guard with the bleeding nose. Lincoln stood helplessly in the doorway and watched them drag her down the hall. He turned his attention to Nathan who was sitting at the table with his head in his hands. Lincoln threw up his hands. “What the hell was that about?” he demanded as he noted the rising welt across Nathan’s cheek. “You realize they’re going to toss her in solitary?”
“Calm down, Lincoln, they’re not going to throw her into solitary confinement.”
“You want to bet? She hit a guard, Nathan. They don’t take that shit lightly.” Lincoln put his hands on his hips. “Care to tell me what started this?” he asked as he knelt down to collect the scattered papers.
Nathan said nothing. The silence between them was broken when Lincoln’s cell phone rang. “You’re not supposed to have that in here,” Nathan said.
Lincoln ignored him. “Quinn,” he answered curtly. “Yes, what? ... Right now? ... No. Tell her to calm down, we’ll be right there.” He flipped his phone closed.
“The cops are at the hospital to see Sarah.”
“You go. I’ll be right behind you. I need to settle a few things here before I can leave. Just don’t let her say anything until I get there.” Nathan quickly scooped up papers.
Surprised, Lincoln said, “Why don’t I stay and you go? She needs a lawyer.”
“You’re capable and you think like a cop, so you’ll know what they’re after. I can’t leave here until I know Abby is going to be okay.”
♥
Lincoln rode the elevator in silence. Looking at his fuzzy reflection in the doors, he straightened his tie and patted down his hair. What a day, he thought as the elevator doors opened. Stepping out onto the floor, he spotted Detectives Webber and Ames standing in conversation with a nurse just outside Sarah’s door. Neither saw him approach.
“I
don’t care who you are, her doctor said that you are not to see her.”
Lincoln recognized the nurse, but he didn’t know her name.
“You can’t stop us,” Webber said, about to push past her.
“I’m sorry, officers,” she said, blocking their path.
“You heard her, guys. If the doc says ‘no go’, then you ‘no go’.” Lincoln stepped in front of Sarah’s door.
“Quinn, what are you doing here?” Ames said in surprise as the nurse left to fetch one of Sarah’s doctors.
“I work for the lawyer representing Miss Murphy, and he has advised his client not to talk to you until he’s present and her doctor has okayed it.”
“Miss Murphy, huh?” Webber reached into his pocket and pulled out his notebook. “Thanks, Quinn, that pretty much tells us she is the reporter who leaked the story.”
Lincoln’s features didn’t change even though he was swearing at himself inside.
“Funny, she’s registered under the name McMurphy. I wonder why that is? She isn’t hiding anything, is she?”
“No,” Lincoln answered with an icy stare.
“Then why’s she here under Sarah McMurphy?” Webber persisted, trying to taunt Lincoln.
“She’s not hiding. In all the confusion, the error was just never corrected,” he answered calmly, refusing to take the bait.
“Which is it then, Quinn — Murphy or McMurphy?”
Lincoln had walked right into their trap and he knew it. If he lied now, they could nail him with obstruction. He looked to Detective Ames, but there was little the rookie could do for him.
“So Abby was the leak after all,” Webber said triumphantly.
Lincoln looked at him in disbelief, “How the hell do you figure that?”
“Abby was sleeping with her. We’re busting our asses trying to clean up the Ward mess you two left for us, while she’s spilling her guts to a little split-tail reporter.”
Webber kept pushing, taunting Lincoln, but he didn’t have Abby’s temper. He knew what Webber was trying to do and he had no intention of playing his game. Lincoln would have loved to carry on the conversation, however he saw the nurse coming down the hallway with a very annoyed looking Dr. Marcot.