“And the chief wants a piece of the press coverage.” Sharp’s phone went off, and he glanced at the screen. “It’s Olivia’s sister. I should have called her already.” How could he feel any shittier? He answered the call. “Valerie. I’m sorry. I should have called you with an update.”
“That’s not why I’m calling.” She sounded upset. “We trust you to update us when you know something.”
“Then what’s wrong?” he asked.
“There is a crowd of reporters outside,” Valerie said. “The street is full of them. They’re broadcasting from the sidewalk in front of the house.”
“Can you see any particular news stations?”
“Yes. JBT News.”
Sharp covered the phone mic and turned to Morgan. “See if there’s some live coverage on the website for JBT News.”
Morgan turned her laptop around and typed on the keyboard. “There is. I can see vans from other stations as well. They’re all in front of the Cruz house.”
Sharp lowered his hand and spoke into the phone. “Do you want us to come down there and talk to the press?”
Valerie paused, as if thinking it over. “Not unless you think it will help find Olivia.”
“The police chief is holding a press conference later,” Sharp said. “He’s going to give the public a tip line to call. I don’t see how stressing your mom and dad out with a horde of reporters is going to accomplish anything.”
“Then we’ll sit tight and ignore them,” Valerie said.
“If you change your mind, Morgan can set up your own press conference. For now, we have a few leads to follow up on this morning.” Sharp didn’t want to get their hopes up with specifics. Nor did he want to give them information in case a reporter got to them. “I’ll call you if I have any news.”
He ended the call and turned to Morgan. “Are the reporters giving any real information?”
“Not really.” Morgan shook her head. “Feels more like entertainment than news, but they are showing her picture and encouraging anyone with information to call the SFPD.”
Stella sat in a chair facing his desk. “I want to interview the former manager of Olander Dairy. His name is Ronald Alexander. He was fired a few months ago when the farm went belly-up.”
Sharp shifted forward, his fingers curled around the arms of his chair. “Why do we want to talk to Ronald?”
“Because I have questions about the Olander dairy farm, and I want to ask someone besides Kennett Olander.” Stella pulled her chair forward and rested her forearms on his desk. “Kennett and Lena Olander married in Iowa in 1982. Lena was sixteen. Kennett was twenty-three. Erik was born in Iowa. Kennett Olander has no criminal record in the state of New York or in the National Crime Information Center, which is normal. But get this. He also has no employment record with Social Security prior to 1994. He didn’t file a tax return before moving to Scarlet Falls.”
The National Crime Information Center, or NCIC, was an FBI database that tracked crime at the national level.
“What about Lena?” Morgan asked.
Stella shook her head. “There are barely any records for Lena at all, even here and now. She isn’t listed on the deed of the farm. Kennett’s name is the only one on the property tax records or recent mortgage. Lena Olander had a driver’s license, but no vehicles are registered in her name. She had no credit cards. The couple had one joint bank account. The rest of the accounts are in his name only. The gun she used to commit suicide is registered to Kennett. His license on the weapon was for on-premises only. He didn’t apply for concealed carry.”
“So Lena, who married very young, had no assets, no credit, and no income separate from her husband.” Morgan leaned on the corner of the desk. “When she came here to speak with me, she acted anxious.”
Abusive men often maintained control of their wives by making sure they did not have access to money. Financial dependence could be a heavy chain.
“Hopefully, Ronald is a disgruntled former employee and will tell us all about his former boss.” Stella rose.
Sharp stood. “Do you have a current address for this Ronald Alexander?”
“I do.” Stella nodded.
Sharp grabbed his keys. “Let’s go talk to him. Maybe he can tell us what official reports won’t. We can drive out to Joe Franklin’s place too.”
“OK.” Stella held up a hand in a stop gesture. “I’ll let you come with me on one condition.”
“I’m not sure I can make promises. I’m going to do whatever it takes to find Olivia.” Sharp was prepared to work around, over, or through any obstacles. “If you don’t want me along on the interview, I can always catch up with Alexander when you’re done with him.”
He was being a dick, but he couldn’t help it.
Stella gave him a look. “Or you could play nice. I have enormous respect for you as a detective. You helped train me when I was a rookie. With Brody on vacation, I could use a second set of ears and eyes. Your experience is invaluable.”
“What do you want me to do?” Sharp grumbled.
“Not break any more laws,” Stella said. “At least not when you’re with me.”
“All right.” If necessary, Sharp could ditch her and circumvent the law afterward. “Let’s go.”
“Morgan and I are headed for the DA’s office,” Lance said. “Let us know what happens in the interview.”
Sharp grabbed his jacket and led the way into the hall.
Stella zipped her jacket and followed him. “Unlike the Olanders, Ronald has a colorful history. He worked for Olander Dairy for ten years. But before that, he served a year in jail for criminal possession of a firearm and did a six-month stint for assault. He beat up a neighbor who let his dog poop on his lawn.”
They walked to her unmarked police car. Sharp went around to the passenger side.
Stella drove away from the office. “In an interesting twist, his assault victim refused to sign a complaint. Alexander was convicted on the eyewitness testimony of another neighbor.”
“The victim was afraid of him.” Sharp had seen it before.
Unlike on TV, no citizen can press charges against another. Only the DA can charge someone with a crime. It wasn’t unusual for a victim to refuse to sign a complaint or to withdraw their complaint for fear of retribution. The DA does not need the cooperation of the victim. Although getting a conviction can be more difficult without a victim’s support, the DA can charge a suspect as long as there is sufficient evidence.
“Does he have a wife?” Sharp stared out the passenger window as the houses rolled by. They passed Olivia’s street, and the air left his lungs, the hollowness aching.
Is she still alive?
“Yes. He’s been married to the same woman for twenty years.” Stella looked both ways at a stop sign, then turned onto the main road that bisected the small business district. “Once he started working for Olander Dairy, he stopped getting into trouble.”
But Alexander was definitely capable of violence.
Chapter Nineteen
In the conference room of the DA’s office, Morgan opened her file. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with us. We won’t keep you long. You’re already working overtime. Big case?”
“No.” Across the table, ADA Anthony Esposito tugged at his french cuffs, then leaned on his forearms. Dark and precisely groomed, Esposito was slick from his whitened teeth to his black Ferragamo shoes. Even on a weekend, he was dressed in a custom-tailored gray suit. “I work every Saturday. It’s the only time the office is quiet.”
Morgan had almost worked for the Randolph County Prosecutor’s Office the previous year. After she’d agreed to defend her neighbor’s son, who’d been accused of a horrible murder, her offer of employment had been withdrawn. Eventually, Anthony Esposito had been hired to fill the vacancy.
She did not regret her decision one bit. Morgan was able to keep her caseload to a more manageable size. She only worked weekends when she accepted a high-profile case, which wasn’t
often. Most weekdays she was home by five thirty, and she did her best to reserve Saturdays and Sundays for family time.
When she accepted a high-stakes case, like Olivia’s disappearance, she could work overtime without guilt.
As if that were possible for any working mom.
But at least she could keep her guilt to a minimum by working reasonable hours most of the time.
“I assume you’ve heard that Olivia Cruz is missing.” Morgan clicked her pen open and held it poised over her notepad.
“Yes,” Esposito said. “I’m sorry to hear about Ms. Cruz, but I’m not sure how I can help.”
“We’re not sure either,” Lance commented from the seat next to Morgan. “But one angle we’ve been working is her current book research. Olivia was digging into the Erik Olander case.”
“Why would that case interest her?” Esposito leaned back and crossed his arms. He kept his eyes on Morgan and ignored Lance. “It was a relatively easy case to prosecute. Erik tried to stage the scene to look like an intruder had killed his wife. But forensic evidence was able to cut through that little piece of bullshit like a chain saw through butter.”
“How?” Morgan was still waiting for the full transcript of Erik’s trial.
Esposito shifted forward and rested his elbows on the table. “His wife was beaten and strangled. Despite all his efforts to make it appear as if someone had broken into the house, the latent fingerprint examiner was able to lift two of Erik’s thumbprints from his wife’s throat.”
“Nice break,” Lance said. “It isn’t easy to lift prints from human skin.”
“The tech used black magnetic powder and lifted them with white silicone, and we got lucky. They were beautiful.” Esposito’s eyes gleamed. “And, if that wasn’t enough, the lab was able to extract touch DNA from the prints.”
Touch DNA was exactly what it sounded like, the skin cells left behind when a person touched an object.
“With Erik’s thumbprint taken from his wife’s neck, the DNA presence was overkill, but juries love forensics.” Esposito understood his job wasn’t to prove the defendant guilty. It was to convince a jury the defendant was guilty.
“Did he explain his DNA on his wife’s neck?” Morgan would have argued a husband’s DNA would naturally be on his wife’s body.
“He said he touched her neck after she was dead to see if she had a pulse, but the positioning of the prints was perfect for strangulation, not medical assistance.” Esposito opened his fingers and mimicked wrapping them around a person’s neck. He wiggled his thumbs. “The thumbs were on each side of her neck, as if he had been straddling her.”
“Hard to check someone’s pulse that way,” Lance said.
“There was bruising as well, so it wasn’t the gentle, loving touch he claimed.” Esposito flicked a brief, irritated glance at Lance. “Also, Natalie’s friends testified she was terrified of her husband and that he tried to keep her isolated. They’d seen bruises on her body in the past. We also got a big break with Natalie’s use of the library internet to research domestic violence shelters.”
“You never had any doubts Erik killed his wife?” Morgan asked.
Esposito shook his head. “Never.”
Lance leaned forward. “Did you have any suspicions that someone helped Erik?”
“Are you thinking the father?” Esposito asked.
Lance nodded. “That’s exactly what we were thinking.”
“It’s possible.” Esposito shrugged. “But there was no evidence of it. The old man doesn’t even have a speeding ticket on his record, let alone anything criminal. He was so clean, he squeaked. But there was one thing that bugged me during the trial preparation.”
“What was that?” Morgan asked.
“Erik’s mother.” Esposito’s brow furrowed. “Mrs. Olander claimed Erik was innocent. She repeated a few lines about an intruder killing her daughter-in-law. Every time I asked her, she said the exact same words, verbatim.”
“Her statement was rehearsed.” Morgan took notes.
“Yes.” Esposito’s chair squeaked as he suddenly leaned back. “And every time she spoke, she’d glance at her husband. I swear she didn’t breathe until he approved.”
“Did you try questioning her alone?” Morgan would have separated the couple immediately.
“Of course we did.” Esposito all but rolled his eyes. “As did the original officer who responded to the farm about the intruder call. All of her statements were identical. She was even more nervous alone, and she repeated the exact same sentences. No matter how the questions were phrased. If we deviated from questions about the night or crime, she stopped talking. I think she would have exploded if I asked her what her favorite color was.”
Morgan set down her pen. “You think she was afraid of her husband.”
Who Lance and Sharp suspected was trafficking illegal guns.
“I do.” Esposito frowned. “Erik’s mother shot herself in her car right after she met with you.”
Remembering, Morgan swallowed. “Yes.”
Lance tapped a knuckle on the table. “Erik killed Natalie, and Mrs. Olander was afraid of her husband. Possibly both wives were victims of domestic abuse. But neither of those things feels like a reason to kidnap Olivia.”
Lance was right. They needed to focus on Olivia, not Mrs. Olander.
Morgan checked her notes. “What about the issue with the jury foreman?”
Esposito scoffed. “Olander’s attorney filed a notice of appeal, but we all know it won’t go anywhere. The jury didn’t deliberate long. Their decision was unanimous. No holdouts. No hint of a hung jury. Nothing.”
Maybe the Olander case, as strange as the family was, had nothing to do with Olivia’s disappearance.
“You said Ms. Cruz was working on two cases,” Esposito prompted. “What was the second?”
Lance volunteered, “Cliff Franklin.”
The smallest glimmer of surprise showed in the ADA’s eyes.
“That wasn’t my case.” Esposito stood, smoothing his already-perfect hair. “You’ll have to ask Bryce about it. I have to get back to work.” He reached for Morgan’s hand and shook it for a few seconds too long. “Ms. Dane. Always a pleasure.” He shot an arrogant glance at Lance. “Kruger.” The tone was dismissive and smug. Esposito took two strides to the doorway.
Morgan had to control rolling her eyes. Esposito liked to tweak Lance whenever possible. The ADA was a skilled trial attorney. Unfortunately, arrogance often accompanied that ability, and Esposito was full of it.
“Is Bryce in today?” Morgan called after him.
“No.” He paused to shake his head but offered no additional information before he left the room.
“What now?” Lance got to his feet and stretched. He pulled out his phone and glanced at it. “No word from Sharp.”
She followed Lance from the room and out of the DA’s offices. Once the elevator doors closed, she asked, “Why did you insist we invite Esposito to the wedding again? He works hard to aggravate you.”
“Because I want him to see us get married.” Lance grinned.
Morgan shook her head. “You two are ridiculous.”
Lance shrugged. “He started it.”
They left the building and crossed the parking lot to Lance’s Jeep. Morgan’s phone vibrated in her pocket as they climbed into the vehicle. She pulled it out and opened a text. “Grandpa says he found something.”
She fastened her seat belt, then called her grandfather’s cell phone. He answered on the first ring.
She raised the phone in front of her face. “You’re on speaker, Grandpa.”
“Let me go into my room.” He huffed and puffed.
Morgan worried about his heart and blood pressure and the butter and bacon he loved. She could hear the television and the kids in the background and guessed he was hauling himself out of his recliner. A door closed.
“OK, I’m here.” His voice was breathless. “So I started with Olivia’s notes on the Fran
klin murder trial. She made following her research easy, cross-referencing her comments with the trial transcript.” Grandpa cleared his throat. “Olivia flagged two evidentiary errors. First of all, there was a minor error in the original search warrant. The house number in the address was incorrect by one digit. Cliff Franklin’s attorney called this out during the trial and motioned to have all evidence obtained via that search suppressed. However, the judge overruled his objection. There were enough additional details describing the house to establish it was the correct location.”
Contrary to public belief, minor errors on search warrants do not automatically disallow all evidence found during that search. As a failsafe, the police add descriptive elements to search warrants. Sometimes they include directions on how to arrive at the house; a description of the residence, including details such as house color and trim; and the official tax lot description on file for the location. If a reasonable person would still know which house to search, even with the street address error, then the warrant can generally be upheld.
“The second error Olivia found was not called out during the trial, and it’s a big deal.” Grandpa paused for a breath. “One of the key pieces of evidence was the victim’s hairs that were found in Cliff Franklin’s trunk. But more hairs were submitted to the lab than were logged in by the exhibits officer. So it appears that not all the hairs went through the proper chain of custody.”
There should have been no doubt as to where every single piece of evidence was located at any time during collection, testing, or storage. Failure to maintain the chain of custody allows the defense to suggest that evidence could have been contaminated, tampered with, or even planted.
“Let me guess.” Morgan rubbed the bridge of her nose. “The hairs that matched the victim were the ones missing from the evidence log.”
“Bingo,” Grandpa said. “There was other evidence, but the majority of it was circumstantial. One of Brandi’s friends stated that Brandi thought Cliff was creepy. He’d been seen near her apartment building, and she’d texted that friend that she thought he was following her to the grocery store.”
Save Your Breath Page 13