A Stranger on the Beach

by Michele Campbell

  “Please, Mr. Callahan. Or, Aidan, if I may. I thought I made this very clear. Hold your comments till the end.”

  “Sorry, Ms. Walters.”

  “Call me Lisa. Your defense lawyer is your only friend. We might as well be on a first-name basis.”

  She looked back down at her notebook.

  “When Mrs. Stark woke up, she says that both you and her husband’s body were gone. And that’s all they’re telling me right now. I think they’re still interviewing her.”

  “Caroline says I’m guilty. Then I’m done, right? I might as well give up?”

  “No. She says you’re guilty, that’s where we start. I go to work to undermine her testimony and earn my paycheck. Right now, this case is based on a single witness. That’s great for the defense. A witness’s credibility can always be destroyed. Unless there’s other evidence to corroborate what Mrs. Stark says. Understand?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “If it’s your word against hers, I can dirty her up and make her look bad. That creates reasonable doubt. But if the prosecution has forensic evidence against you, we could be in trouble, unless we discredit it somehow. In murder cases, there are two types of forensic evidence that really matter. The victim’s body. And the murder weapon. And here’s the interesting part. I asked Mike Castro if I could get the reports on the victim’s body and the murder weapon, and he hemmed and hawed and made noises about hurricane damage impeding the search. Do you know what that means? They don’t have them yet.”

  “You mean—?”

  “They don’t have the body or the murder weapon.”

  “Murder weapon. See, that’s the thing I’m trying to tell you. I don’t own a gun. I’ve never had a gun.”

  “Don’t tell me that now. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. And unfortunately, we probably will come to it. Bodies wash ashore. They get sniffed out by curious dogs. Any clever place you hide a gun—wedged under a sofa, thrown in the gutter near your house—somebody finds it. So.” She shrugged.

  “But I don’t own a gun, I said.”

  “We’re not discussing the facts right now.”

  “Seriously. I don’t own a gun.”

  “If and when they find a gun, we can argue it’s not yours. If the facts support that argument. The point is, we can’t rely on those things staying gone. You with me so far?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, next point. Whether you’re guilty or innocent, when they bring you to court, you’ll plead not guilty. And we’ll ask for bail. Depending on what evidence they have at that point, you may or may not get bail, but we’ll ask. Okay?”

  “Yes. Good. I would like to get out of here.”

  “Glad to hear it. That brings me to my next point. This is a corollary of don’t confess, and it’s the single, most significant thing I will ever tell you. Keep your mouth shut. You do not, under any circumstances, speak to anybody other than me about your case. That includes your brother, your mother, your cellmate, your best friend, your next-door neighbor. Not even your priest. You say you want to get out of here. I can tell you, the quickest road to life in prison is to shoot your mouth off. Do you understand?”

  Aidan looked sheepish. “Yeah, uh, here’s the problem. I might’ve confessed already.”

  She sighed loudly. “Oh, great. What did you say, Aidan, and to whom?”

  “Mike Castro asked me if I killed the guy. Don’t worry, I didn’t say I killed him. But I might’ve said I wasn’t sure.”

  “I don’t understand. Who’s not sure if they killed someone? You mean, you shot him, but you’re not sure he died?”

  “No. I’m not sure if I shot him. I remember being with Caroline at her house, and her husband was pounding on the door. But I don’t, I can’t—it’s like I blacked out at some point. I don’t remember anything after that knock on the door.”

  “You’re telling me you blacked out and you don’t remember whether you killed a man? I know we said not to talk about the facts of the case. But seriously? Come on.”

  Aidan closed his eyes, and the insides of his eyelids were red, like blood. He opened them again and looked at his hands. He could still feel the stickiness of the blood there. He could still see it swirling down the drain when he washed. But try as he might, he couldn’t remember how it got there. He didn’t recall doing the killing.

  “I know it sounds crazy, but I don’t remember,” he said.

  “That sounds like bullshit to me, kid,” Lisa said. “You know, I’ve been defending homicide cases for fifteen years. You’re the first guy who ever tried to pull that one.”

  “But it’s true.”

  “I’m your lawyer, Aidan. If you lie to me, it makes it a lot harder for me to help you.”

  “I’m not lying.”

  “That remains to be seen, but let’s move on. You say the husband came to the door. And found you with his wife.”

  “Yes.”

  “You didn’t tell Castro that, did you? ’Cause if you admitted the affair, and being present on the night of the murder, you’re halfway to screwed, and I’ll tell your brother to save his money.”

  “No. Mike asked me if I did it, and all I said was, I’m not sure. I didn’t say anything else. Not another word.”

  She exhaled. “Well, thank God for small favors, I guess. Saying you’re not sure you murdered the victim is pretty bad. But admitting that you were at the scene of the crime at the time of the murder having an affair with his wife? That’s worse, because it’s so specific. The first thing, we can say you were confused, or didn’t understand the question. The second thing looks like a motive. It makes the jury think you did it. Now, tell me, were you by any chance under arrest when Castro questioned you?”

  “I was down on the ground with his knee in my back and the cuffs on. But he didn’t tell me my rights yet. Is that arrest?”

  She nodded. “It is, and since he didn’t read you your rights, I should be able to get the ‘I’m not sure’ statement thrown out.”

  “Can I say something? If I did kill Stark, it wasn’t because I wanted to steal his wife. Jason Stark is an animal. He cheated on her. Humiliated her publicly by bringing his mistress around. Then he threatened her life, and possibly hired a hit man to kill her. I don’t remember killing him. But if I did, it was only to protect her.”

  Lisa Walters scribbled furiously in her notebook. She looked up at Aidan over her glasses.

  “Aidan, what did I say? No confessing. I only killed the guy because he was mean to his wife. That’s a confession.”

  “I’m saying if I killed him.”

  She paused, tapping her pencil against her notebook. Her fingernails were long and painted a deep crimson.

  “Stark abusing his wife and hiring a hit man? That would be an interesting avenue of inquiry if it weren’t so far-fetched.”

  “I know it sounds crazy. But I saw it with my own eyes. I followed Stark—”

  “Okay, stop right there. You followed her husband?”

  “Only because I was worried about her. And nobody knows I did it, that I’m aware of. Except Caroline. I told her.”

  “This is very bad for your case.”

  “I see how it might be.”

  “There may be things we can work with. Caroline Stark is their star witness, so if she had a motive of her own to kill her husband, we may be able to use that. The best way to convince the jury you’re innocent is to convince them somebody else is guilty.”

  “Wait a minute. You mean, put suspicion on her? I don’t want to get Caroline in trouble.”

  “She has no problem getting you in trouble. Your brother is spending his kids’ college savings to pay for a lawyer for you. What are you, an ingrate? Besides, if she didn’t do anything, they wouldn’t actually charge her. It’s just an explanation that we feed to the jury in your case.”

  “I don’t think she did anything. She asked me to kill him at one point, then she changed her mind, and reconciled with the jerk.”

&nbs
p; The lawyer’s mouth fell open. “Caroline Stark solicited you to kill her husband?”

  “But I said no.”

  “But you discussed killing him. Is it possible that she recorded that conversation?”

  “No way. She would never do that. We’re in love. We’re going to be together.”

  “Aidan, this woman is turning state’s evidence on you. I assure you, she’s not dreaming of a future with you. If she asked you to kill him, and you did it on her behalf, maybe we can go to the prosecution and make a deal. You testify that she solicited you—”

  “No. Absolutely not. You’re not listening. I didn’t agree to kill him. I told her I would never do something like that. And she backed off.”

  “You say you would never do something like that. But I see in my paperwork that you have a prior manslaughter conviction. Are you being straight with me?”

  “That wasn’t my fault. Me and my best friend were down by the beach. We were fighting over a girl. Matthew hit me, and I hit him back. He fell and whacked his head on a rock, and he died. It was a terrible accident. I still have nightmares about it. I loved the guy.”

  “Okay, look. I think I can keep the prior conviction out of court. But I need you to be honest with me.”

  “I am being honest.”

  “I’m hearing a lot of excuses and frankly, some crazy stuff. This blackout thing,” Lisa said, and rolled her eyes. “Maybe you killed him, but you don’t remember?”

  “I know you don’t believe me.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “So what do we do? Are you going to dump me as a client?”

  Lisa sighed. “No. I promised your brother. I’ll do my best to work with what you give me. On the blackout—do you have a history of seizures, neurological impairment, psychological disturbance, anything that would show up in medical records?”

  “No,” he said. “There’s nothing.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “Drug addiction?” she asked.

  “Nope. Never touch the stuff. Booze, yes, professional hazard. But not to excess.”

  “Were you drinking last night?”

  “One shot of—what was it? Bourbon I think. With Caroline. It was kind of heinous stuff, but not enough to make me drunk.”

  “I’m going to request a psych workup and a complete tox screen of the blood sample they took at the time of your arrest. It’s a Hail Mary, but you never know. Maybe there’s something we can use to support a claim of a blackout.”

  She looked at her watch.

  “All right, that’s enough for our first meeting. You’ve given me a lot of information, Aidan. I need to get started right away following up on these leads. I’m going to remind you again, don’t talk to anybody about the case. Understand?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “No buts. You keep your mouth shut unless you want to spend the rest of your life in jail.”

  “But I need to talk to Caroline. She’s the only one. I won’t talk to anyone else.”

  “Ugh, don’t you listen? What have I been telling you this whole time? Caroline Stark is the main witness against you. She’s the last person on earth you should talk to.”

  “But she was there. She knows what happened.”

  Lisa threw her hands up. “Exactly my point. She was there, and she says you’re guilty. If you talk to her, whatever you say, she’ll rat you out to the police. It can only work against you.”

  “She wouldn’t. She’s not like that.”

  “She is exactly like that. I passed her in the hall before. She’s in another interview room right now giving a statement to implicate you in a murder. Why can’t you understand that?”

  Aidan felt as if the air had been knocked out of him. His hands started to sweat in the manacles.

  “Caroline’s here? Now, in the police station? Please, Lisa, I need to talk to her. She can help me figure out what happened. I don’t think I did it. But maybe I did. She knows the truth.”

  “If she knows it, and you’re guilty, then she won’t help you. And if you’re innocent, then she’s lying about what you did. This blackout story of yours is nuts, Aidan, but I’m starting to think the most far-fetched explanation is the way to go with you. Maybe there’s something to it. Maybe you were unconscious, and she killed him.”

  “I need to talk to her.”

  “Is that what happened? Are you covering for her?”

  “No. I—I mean, if there was something to cover for, I might. But I honestly can’t remember if there is.”

  Lisa shook her head in frustration. How could he make her understand? Aidan could still smell the blood that had drenched his clothes. He could feel it on his hands. Something had happened last night, something terrible. Was it possible to kill someone and not remember? Could he have Jason Stark’s blood on his hands, yet be innocent of his murder? Was Caroline involved in killing her husband? Did they do it together, and Aidan was blocking the memory somehow? The questions burned in his brain. The only way he could answer them was to talk to Caroline.

  Lisa got up and pressed the call button to be let out of the interview room.

  “Remember what I said. Don’t talk to anyone about your case, especially not to Caroline Stark. Not that that’s even possible. Believe me, they’ll keep you a million miles away from her.”

  She left, and Aidan waited to be escorted back to his cold, dank cell. But he couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that Caroline was here, in this very building. In the darkness of his mind, he could smell her perfume, hear the echo of her voice. Yes, his lawyer had ordered him not to speak to her. But he couldn’t obey. He had to see Caroline. Nothing else mattered.

  47

  Lieutenant Jess Messina switched off the tape recorder.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Stark,” Jess said. “It was important that you started from the beginning, from when you first saw Aidan Callahan, and your details could not be clearer. You’ve been very brave. Your testimony will be the key to convicting this man of your husband’s murder. I know that was a lot, and I don’t want to burden you more than I have to tonight.”

  Caroline Stark hadn’t cried a single tear in the three hours she’d spent in the interview room. But her hollow eyes and pale, clammy skin revealed a woman exhausted and in shock. Caroline was dealing not only with grief and trauma but with overwhelming guilt. A man she’d had a brief fling with had stalked her, stalked her family, broken into her house, held her prisoner, and slaughtered her husband in cold blood right before her eyes. Despite all that, some folks were going to blame Caroline for what happened. Blame the victim—too often, it was still like that. Jess didn’t blame her; she admired her. To her mind, Caroline Stark was a rare truth-teller. How many witnesses were as honest about their own sins as she’d been? Not many. That should count for something. Not to mention that even if you considered Caroline’s fling with Aidan Callahan a sin, she’d already been punished beyond imagining.

  “I can keep going. We don’t have to stop,” Caroline said.

  “You gave me a lot of information already,” Jess said. “We now have on record that Aidan Callahan stalked you and your family leading up to the murder of your husband. That’s extremely helpful testimony. When you discuss a trauma, you relive it, and that’s very debilitating. You’ll need your strength in the days ahead. I don’t want to ask too much of you now.”

  “All right. Thank you for understanding, Lieutenant.”

  “I do understand. You can count on me. I’ll be working this case all the way through the trial—if there is one. With the very detailed statement you gave, hopefully he’ll plead guilty, and you won’t have to go through a trial.”

  Jess was State Police BCI, brought in to assist the locals with major investigations they couldn’t handle on their own. Normally, they worked side by side, but this case was different. The locals were tainted, because the suspect was the chief’s kid brother. Jess had the file on Aidan Callahan’s prior convic
tion, and it looked like the chief put his thumb on the scale for his brother on that one, too. That was not going to happen again, not on her watch.

  “I want you to know, we’re working every angle on this case,” Jess said. “We’ve got people out searching the area where Aidan Callahan was arrested. We’ve got his truck. They’re searching that. The forensics team will be going to your house to collect physical evidence. I’ll need you to sign a form authorizing that.”

  “My house? Is that necessary? I already told you what happened. I’m an eyewitness. But my house—I want to get it cleaned and repaired right away.”

  “I understand, but it is necessary. We need corroborating evidence for your witness statement. What we get from the murder scene will bolster our case. Fingerprints, fibers, strands of hair, blood spatters, bullet casings, you name it. We want this case to stick. We don’t want Callahan getting out.”

  Caroline went white as a ghost. “He could get out? But he’d come after me. My daughter, my sister. They’re not safe.”

  “I don’t think he’ll get out. Callahan’s in the holding cell right now, and they’ll be transferring him to the state prison tonight, where he’ll stay until he’s brought to court. We’re getting ready to file formal charges. Once the charges are filed, he gets a bail hearing. The more evidence we have, the more likely he gets remanded to custody instead of getting bail. That’s why we needed to go through this lengthy interview tonight, and it’s why I need you to sign this search form. Please, it’s important.”

  Jess placed the form in front of Caroline, who seemed almost put out as she scrawled her name. Who could blame the poor woman? Her nerves must be shattered at this point.

  “Thank you,” Jess said. “And so you know, we’re following up on other search locations as well. The murder weapon hasn’t been found. Neither has—”

  “You didn’t find the gun? Did you look in his truck?”

  “The truck’s been towed to the lab. The lab is closed because of the storm. As soon as they reopen, our case is top priority.”

  “Can’t someone go look inside the truck?” Caroline asked.