Building Blocks of Murder (7 page)

“Officer Cantor, you were the arresting officer in this case, were you not?” Ed McNeil asked. The way he paced regally back and forth in front of Jason with his head down and hands clasped behind his back reminded Lacy of Foghorn Leghorn from the old cartoons.

“I was,” Jason replied. His voice was tense, the way it was when he was trying to keep a tight leash on his temper.

Calm down, Jason,
she silently pled, knowing it wouldn’t do him any favors if he lost it with Ed McNeil, especially because that was probably exactly what the unctuous lawyer wanted.

“On the night in question seven years ago, how did you find the defendant when you went to arrest him?” Ed McNeil paused mid-pace and turned to the defense table where a pathetic-looking man sat hunched behind the desk, his prison-issued orange uniform dwarfing his small frame. His hair was white and thinning. Lacy couldn’t see his expression, but she wondered if it was as dejected as the rest of his posture.

“I found him high on a substance later determined to be heroin,” Jason said.

“And what was his reaction to you? Was he violent? Did he resist arrest?”

“No,” Jason said. “He was confused, but he didn’t put up a struggle. I read him his rights, cuffed him, and put him in the back of my cruiser.”

“What led to Mr. Anton’s arrest that night, Officer?” Ed McNeil asked.

Lacy’s hand clenched into a fist. She felt he was leading somewhere, but she didn’t know where.

“I wasn’t part of the investigative process until the very end,” Jason said. “I stumbled across an inconsistency in his statement and his alibi. From there we were able to determine that Mr. Anton’s alibi had been false. Not only that, but he and the victim had recently had an argument, providing him with motive. That, combined with the fact that the defendant had been a known drug user during the time of the murder was enough evidence to make the arrest. More information came to light at trial, and it was enough to convict him.”

“So because my client used drugs and had argued with the victim some thirteen years before his arrest, he was automatically a prime suspect. Why after thirteen years was he a suspect again, officer?”

Jason took a breath, fighting an exasperated sigh. “The case had been open for years, the file in the patrol room for anyone to look at. I took an interest in it when I joined the force and began pursuing the angles again. That’s when I ran across the inconsistencies with Mr. Anton.”

“So, just to clarify, you—a rookie, brand new to the force and still wet behind the ears—singlehandedly solved a case that your fellow officers had been unable to solve for thirteen years.”

“No, I did nothing singlehandedly. I consulted with the detectives and built upon the work that had already been done. If my superiors and the prosecutor hadn’t agreed with my conclusion, then they wouldn’t have worked so hard to get the warrant. And then a jury of his peers convicted him based on that same evidence.”

“Thank you for that summation, Officer Cantor,” Ed McNeil said, his tone sarcastic. “How long have you been on the force now?”

“Seven years,” Jason said tightly.

“In that time, how many complaints have been lodged against you?”

“It would be unnatural if the people I arrested didn’t complain. But no complaint has ever stuck, none has ever required an official investigation,” Jason said.

“How many?” Ed McNeil pressed.

“Three,” Jason said through gritted teeth. “But as I said…”

“So three citizens have complained about your rough treatment and mishandling of their cases, and your superiors have never investigated their golden boy,” Ed McNeil said.

“Objection,” the prosecutor said, rising to his feet. “Your honor, Officer Cantor is an exemplary employee whose record speaks for itself.”

“I withdraw my statement,” Ed McNeil said before the judge could make a decision. He held up his hands in surrender as if to imply he meant no offense. “Since opposing counsel mentioned it, let’s talk a little about your record, Officer. You grew up in this town, is that correct?”

“That’s correct,” Jason said. Lacy could practically feel the tension radiating off him.

“Your grades were excellent. You were the salutatorian, received the perfect attendance award every year, and never got in trouble. You were also the quarterback for our esteemed football team, isn’t that correct, Officer?”

“Yes,” Jason said. For some reason, the recap of his life was making him tenser and angrier, as if he sensed where it was leading.

“Forgive me for asking, Officer, but why would someone who showed so much promise stay home and become a small-town cop?”

Lacy held her breath; she had asked herself this same question many times. Jason also took a breath and let it out slowly before answering. “This is my home, and I’ve always wanted to be a cop, to make a difference.”

“Let’s be honest, Officer. There’s a reason you’re so interested in the law, isn’t there?” Before Jason answered, he continued, pounding out the words like an accusation. “In fact, your family has a long history with our police department. I hold in my hand at least fifty calls to your house on domestic complaints varying from arguing to downright abuse. Isn’t that so, Officer?”

“Objection,” the prosecutor said, rising to his feet in outrage. “Your honor, I don’t see what any of this has to do with…”

But Ed McNeil talked overtop of him, pressing his point in a near shout. “Your father beating your mother, beating you, screaming at the neighbors, your mother screaming at him, screaming at you. Certainly that kind of childhood can’t help but leave scars, can it?”

The judge banged his gavel, trying in vain to silence Ed McNeil. “That’s enough, Ed,” the judge said, clearly angry. “That kind of stuff won’t fly in my courtroom, and you know it. The officer’s childhood has nothing to do with the case in question today, and the jury is advised to disregard anything that was just said in the last few minutes.” He narrowed his eyes, jabbing his gavel in Ed McNeil’s direction. “One more trick like that, and I’ll declare a mistrial. You understand me, Ed?”

Ed McNeil nodded, hanging his head as if sorry for his behavior. When he turned to head back to his table, the person in front of Lacy shifted to the right, allowing her a direct line to Jason’s sight. Jason chose that moment look straight ahead. Their eyes locked and held until the judge spoke.

“You’re dismissed, Officer, with the court’s apologies.”

Finally, agonizingly, Jason tore his gaze from Lacy and walked down from the stand. Lacy was glad there were a few formalities before court adjourned so she could try and compose her scattered thoughts.

Growing up, Jason had always been one of the beautiful people whose life had seemed perfect. But behind the fair façade, he was hiding a dirty secret. His home life had been chaotic at the least and abusive at the worst. As the shocking information began to sink in, the pieces started to click together. No wonder Jason had thrown himself into school. No wonder he was so dedicated to being a cop. No wonder he was such a neat freak. It didn’t take a professional psychologist to see that he was trying to order his world, to make sense of the chaos, and right the wrongs from his past.

Though she had no idea what to say to him, she had to talk to him. But when she scanned the courtroom, he was nowhere in sight. Had he slipped out when she hadn’t been watching? Granted, she had been zoned out for the last few minutes now. In fact, as she came to, she realized with a start that court had been adjourned and all the key players were absent, including Ed McNeil, the person she had come to see.

Lacy stood, gathered her purse, and rushed into the hallway. Ed McNeil stood in the circle of three reporters. Lacy could tell they were reporters because of the recording devices they held in front of Ed McNeil’s face. She was surprised by the attention this case was receiving. Their town was small and far from a large news source. With chagrin, she realized it was probably her article that had sparked an interest in the case. She bit back a groan; Jason would never forgive her for this.

When the lawyer was at last finished hamming it up for the cameras, Lacy advanced on him, but he held up a hand to ward her off.

“Not now, Lacy. I’m very busy.”

“I need to talk to you,” she said, jogging to keep pace with him as he strutted down the corridor.

“I don’t have time right now. I have another meeting.”

“When is a good time? I can’t seem to get a straight answer from your Attila the Hun secretary, and this concerns a great deal of money.”

He paused. If there was one thing Ed McNeil appreciated, it was the almighty dollar. Lacy was momentarily distracted by the sight of his garish pinky ring, glittering in the fluorescent lights as he ran his hands through his greasy hair. “I’ll be in my office tomorrow morning and my secretary has a dentist appointment. Stop by then, but keep it short. I’m very busy.” With that he turned and continued his walk toward the exit while Lacy scowled at his back. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the flash of a dark uniform. Hoping it was Jason, she changed direction and hurried around the corner, but it was too late. If it was him, he had gone. Figuring out what to say to him would have to wait until she could find him. She tried not to feel relieved that she wouldn’t have to think up something to say. What was there to say?

Sorry you had a horrific childhood. Sorry I complain about all my petty problems when you have real issues to deal with. Sorry I thought your life was perfect when it’s much worse than mine has ever been.
Maybe she shouldn’t say a word. Maybe she should just hug him.

She gave a humorless chuckle as she tried to imagine hugging Jason in his current mood. She would have better luck hugging a hungry grizzly. Maybe she should give him some time to cool off; she certainly wouldn’t want to be the recipient of his now-raging temper.

By the time Lacy left the courthouse, she had come to her senses and overcome her fear of confronting Jason. He was her friend and, bad mood or not, he had to be hurting over such a public and humiliating airing of his family’s dirty laundry. She had to see him, had to let him know that he wasn’t alone. She pulled out her phone and called him, gritting her teeth in impatience when she once again reached his voicemail.

“I’m starting to feel like your stalker,” she said. “Just for your information, I am not the woman who calls and leaves fifty messages on a guy’s voicemail, but I get the sense you’re dodging me, and I don’t like that. I’ve already apologized, but I’ll do it again. I’m sorry I brought this whole mess about. It wasn’t my intention, and I hope you know that. I go off a little half-cocked when I’m angry. No big surprise there.” She paused. “Jason, I’m sorry. And I want you to know that the stuff from court…it’s not…relevant to…who you are…to our…friendship.” She sighed again. “I’m making a mess out of this. I hate voicemail,” she said, and then the machine cut her off, ending her message most awkwardly.
 
With a huff of frustration, she closed her phone. Resisting the urge to toss it against the nearest wall, she instead shoved it forcefully in her pocket. Tightening her grip on her purse, she jogged down the stairs.

She had only gone a few steps when her phone rang. She was so startled to hear Jason’s tone that she tripped on the last step, barely catching herself on the metal banister in time to avoid a disastrous fall.

“Hello,” she said, her voice breathless as she tried to calm the rapid beating of her heart.

“Geez, are you okay?” Jason asked.

She rolled her eyes. Leave it to him to be concerned about her at a time like this. “I fell down the stairs a little. I’m fine.”

He chuckled and tried to turn it into a cough. “Only you, Red, you know that?”

“Lots of people fall down the stairs, Jason,” she said.

“If you say so,” he said. There was an awkward pause.

“So,” Lacy started, but Jason cut her off.

“Lacy, I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“I was simply going to ask who you thought was going to win the Super Bowl this year. I hear the Cardinals have an excellent shot, which is good because I’ve always liked
St. Louis
.”

“The
St.
Louis Cardinals are a baseball team. I think maybe you mean the Arizona Cardinals.”

“I don’t think so because I don’t really care for
Arizona
. Too dry.”

“Either you’re really good at offering a distraction, or you’re really bad at understanding sports,” Jason said.

“Maybe it’s a combination,” Lacy said. There was another pause, but it was more comfortable this time. “I don’t like how we left things the other night,” she added, trying to hash out at least one of the issues between them.

“Neither do I,” Jason said. “You drive me crazy, though, Lacy. You really, really do.”

“One ‘really’ would have been plenty, Jason,” she said.
 

“I don’t think so, Red. In fact, sometimes I think there aren’t enough adjectives in the world to describe what you do to me.” This time when he paused, tension practically sizzled the line between them. “I should probably go,” he said at last.

She wanted to ask where he was going to go, what he was going to do, how he was feeling. But she had no right to ask any of those things. Or maybe she did, but she was afraid to, afraid to get too close to him, to cross the fine line they had been dancing for the last few weeks.

“Jason,” she began, feeling her way uncertainly. “You know I’m here, right? If you want to talk or…” she broke off, not knowing how to continue.

“It’s the ‘or’ that intrigues me and keeps me up at night, Red,” Jason said. She could tell he was smiling, and she smiled in return.

“For the record, Ed McNeil deserves to be horsewhipped for what he did to you, and I plan to tell him the next time I see him,” she added, feeling angry all over again.

“He deserves more than a whipping,” Jason said, his tone turning gritty and hard. “He deserves to be shot.”

“Well, I suppose you would feel that way,” Lacy said, trying to overlook the disconcerting imagery the words had caused.