Marcie's Murder (11 page)

It was quite a speech
.
Hatfield shrugged.
“I hear you, Billy.” He looked at Steele for a moment and turned back to Askew.
“You have enough to place him under arrest and keep him in custody?”

“Yes,” Askew said.

“Then let’s get the warrant to search the residence and vehicle.”

“Thank you.”

“
Don’t kid yourself, Billy.
This office is
hanging by a thread. I want you to tell me right now you’ll personally withdraw from any further action directly connected to this case.”

“
What
?
”

“
It’s non-negotiable
, Billy. If you expect your office to retain control of this case past the next five seconds
,
you need to say the words. Deputy Chief Branham will have full responsibility for the investigation and you’ll stay at arm’s length
, as you should have right from the get-go
. Say the words.”

Askew sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. “All right.”

“Say the words.”

“All
right
. Branham has the case.”

“You’ll stay completely out of it.”

Askew worked his jaw.
“I’ll stay out of it.”

Hatfield turned to Steele. “Get your team over to the monastery and process everything Branham wants processed
as soon as the warrant comes through
. And get him reports
this afternoon
on the findings from Saturday night.”

“Yes, sir,” Steele said. It was clear he’d hoped for a different outcome.

Hatfield
tapped
Branham
on the chest with a bony finger
. “Keep me completely up to date on everything you find.”

“
Yes sir
,” Branham nodded.

“Bear in mind you can’t keep arresting big guys with beards
just because they showed up at
some dump
on Saturday night. Make this one stick, or it’s over. Let’s go, Ice.”

Askew watched them leave the station, then spun on his heel, strode into his office
,
and slammed the door.

Karen caught Hank’s eye and raised an eyebrow.

Branham stared at the door for a moment and then turned to
Hall
.
“Get the suspect out of there and
process the arrest
.”

He turned to
Hank
.
“
If it turns out he did it, w
e
need to make sure we can nail his ass to the wall
.”

Hank watched Hall get to his feet with an effort and shuffle toward the interview room. He looked back at Karen.

She shook her head microscopically and rolled her eyes.

Not good. Not good at all.

10

They
walked
across the paved area behind the station to the compound where
Hank’s
Grand Cherokee
was locked up.
Branham
unlocked
the padlock, pulled out the chain
,
and opened the gate.
Then he
handed the vehicle keys to Hank and
cleared his throat
.

“Lieutenant,
I
want to
ask you something
.
”

“
Sure, w
hy not
.
”

“I understand your feelings about us right now,” Branham
began
, “but I was wondering if you’d consider sticking around for a couple of days until we get something solid on Brother Charles.”

“You telling me not to leave town
, Deputy Chief
?”

Branham winced. “No, not at all.
Just the opposite. I was wondering if you’d be willing to offer some assistance.
I don’t have any budget to pay for consultation services but if you could stay for a couple of days
and
maybe provide
us with
some advice and guidance as a gesture of good will, I’d be
very
appreciative.”

“How’s your stock of good wil
l these days, Lou?” Karen asked
.

“Damned low.” Hank
stared at the deputy chief
. “Do you seriously think I owe you people any favors?”

“No, you don’t,” Branham agreed, “but I’ll be honest with you
.
I don’t think Brother Charl
e
s
is
good for this. He’s no more a killer than Barney the purple dinosaur. The real killer’s still out there.”

“So go catch the guy
.
What’s it to
me
?”

“Nothing, I understand that,” Branham said. “But I basically run this office and I’m not going to be able to spend all my time on this case, and all I’ve got for a detective is Hall. You’ve seen Hall.”

“
I’ve seen Hall.”

“This is what you do for a living,” Branham pressed. “Surely to God it bothers you that Marcie Askew’s killer
’
s walking around out there thinking he’
s gotten away with it.”

Hank’s temper flared. “You’ve got a lot of
goddamned
nerve
.” He turned on his heel and walked
away
.

Branham looked at Karen.
“I didn’t handle that well
.
”

“No kidding.” She folded her arms across her chest as they watched Hank open the door of the
Grand Cherokee
and pause, one foot up on the rocker panel. He leaned an elbow on the roof of the vehicle and stared straight ahead.

“When I called Maryland,” Branham said, “the sergeant I talked to said
Donaghue
’s the best homicide detective he’s seen in twenty years in the job. No offense,” he added quickly.

“None taken.”
Karen
shifted her weight. “He’s amazing.
His IQ would probably scare the shit out of you, but he never lets on. He’s a millionaire from a family of big-time power brokers but he never talks about it or makes you feel like he’s somehow a cut above. Guy like that, you’d figure he’d be soft in the crunch but he never, ever hesitates to go nose to nose with the worst fuckers you can imagine
,
and he’s the one guy I want covering my six when the bullets start flying.”

“I shouldn’t have worked the guilt angle. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You d
idn
’t need to push his buttons,” Karen agreed. “He pushes them all by himself without anybody else’s help. It’s eating him alive that he saw the vic right before she was killed. No cop would like that,
but it’s bugging him especially bad.”

“I didn’t mean to piss him off.”

“
Give him a minute.”

They watched
Hank
drum his fingers on the hood of the Grand Cherokee for several moments. Then he slammed the door and strode back to them.

“What do you think, Detective?” Hank asked
Karen
, his jaw tight
. “
A c
o
uple of days?”

S
he shrugged.

Hank looked at Branham.

“
A c
ouple of days.”

1
1

The next morning
Billy Askew
pulled off the highway
i
nto a long driveway two miles outside of Bluefield. The driveway was little more than wheel tracks
,
and Askew’s Ford Explorer bounced in the potholes and craters as he worked his way up to the trailer where his sister
Pricie
lived with her two youngest children and her husband, Jimmy Neal. It was because of Jimmy that Askew was here this morning. He’d decided that he’d seen about as much as he was going to take.

He got out of the Explorer and walked slowly up to the door of the trailer. A car passed on the
highway
behind him
,
and he turned to look. It was nothing, just some car that kept on going in the direction of Bluefield. As the sound of the car faded he stood
still
, listening. A dog barked in the distance and then stopped. Flies buzzed in the early sun
light
that lay
in
strip
s
across the siding that covered the trailer. A blue vinyl tarp
thrown over
a pile of lumber
stirred
in the wind
. The trailer
itself
was silent
.

He opened the door, which was never locked, and stepped inside. He paused to let his eyes adjust to the gloom. His nostrils expande
d at the combination of smells that
hung in the air as
unpleasant
reminders of the poverty in which his sister lived
. He picked his way through the stuff on the floor and
looked in
to
the kids’ bedroom. They were gone. Askew assumed they
’
d gotten themselves down to the road in time to be picked up by the school bus.
They usually did.
He
walked
into
his sister’s
bedroom. The morning sunlight was streaming through the gap between the curtains across her body where she lay
turned away from him
on the mattress on the floor,
covered with a
gray
blanket
. He crouched down and touched her shoulder.

“Pricie.”

She moaned but didn
’
t
awaken
.

“Pricie,” he said again,
a little
louder.

She stirred and turned onto her back.
There was a
n
abrasion above her left eyebrow and a black smudge under her left eye. Her shoulder-length
brown
hair lay flat against her temples and neck. Her eyes fluttered and she looked up at him.

“Billy?”

“Wake up, Pricie.”

She closed her eyes and licked her lips, moving her legs beneath the blanket. “What time is it?”

H
e
smell
ed
stale liquor on her breath
.
“A little after
eight
.”

“In the morning?”

“Get up, Pricie.”

“Where’s Jimmy?” Her hand moved automatically to the other side of the mattress.

“Sleeping it off,” Askew said, “in the jug.”

Her eyes opened and she sat up. “Oh
G
od, my head hurts.” She rubbed her forehead. “What happened?”

“Bluefield picked him up on a DUI last night
.
He’ll be out this afternoon.”

“What day is it?”

“Tuesday.” Askew stood up. “Come on, get up. It’s time to go.”

She stared at him. “Go?”

“I told you the next time he hit you I was taking you out of here. Well, now I’m doing it.”

“Oh, Christ, Billy.” She drew her legs up under the blanket and reached for a pack of cigarettes on the floor beside the mattress. “You ca
i
n’t just come in here and expect me to pack up and leave.”
Her voice was flat, lifeless.

He watched her take a
disposable
lighter out of the empty half of the cigarette pack and light a cigarette. She put the lighter back into the pack and tossed it aside.
Pricie was
forty-seven
years old, three years younger than Askew. She had seven children. The oldest, Jimmy Ray, was
twenty-six
years old. He was divorced, had a police record to match his father’s, and had disappeared from sight four years ago. The next two,
Lorna
and Ella, had married and moved out of state, hopefully to somewhere better. Johnny, who was
twenty
-
one
, had joined the Army and was currently serving in
Afghanistan
. Eliza, who was
nineteen
, had
Down
’s syndrome
and was living in a home in Richmond. Perry and Theresa were
sixteen
and
fourteen
, respectively, and were still in school, largely due to Pricie’s insistence that they complete their high school education before getting the hell out.