The Election (15 page)

“Did you see that game Saturday night?” Billy called out to Timmy, to make sure he was still in the other room.

“Yeah, that was some game,” Timmy answered from the outer office. “I was just reading about it in the paper. Did you know that Morrow threw for over three hundred yards?”

Billy opened the top of the box and found the manila envelope containing the blood samples removed from the side of Jesse Thompson's truck. “Yeah, I know,” he called back to Timmy. “We watched the game on Mark's big screen. Have you ever been over to his house?”

“No, why?” Timmy responded curiously.

Billy opened the envelope and removed one of the plastic bags. Inside the bag was a piece of cardboard with some of Jesse Thompson's blood smeared on it. He reached into his pocket and removed another plastic bag. Inside the second plastic bag was a cotton swab, which he used to remove some of the blood.

“His den is painted solid orange,” said Billy with a chuckle. “That really is somethin' to see. My wife would kill me if I painted our den orange.”

“Did you say Mark's den was orange?” Timmy said, his voice sounding louder…and closer.

Billy's heart beat even faster, if that were possible.
He's coming this way!
Frantically he began putting the Thompson evidence box back together.

“Billy, did you say Mark's den was orange?” Timmy asked again. Billy could hear the other deputy's footsteps as he passed the aisle containing the
S
files and turned into the aisle where Billy was.

“That's right, Timmy, orange.” Billy pushed the box containing the evidence back into place just as Timmy reached him. “Ain't that somethin'? An orange room.”

From the inquisitive look on Timmy's face, Billy knew he needed to escape before Timmy prolonged the conversation.

“Thanks, Timmy,” Billy said with a slight slap on Timmy's shoulder as he passed him. “I've got to go.”

Billy left the evidence room and walked straight out the back door of the sheriff's department building without stopping. He was so nervous, he thought he'd vomit before he got to his patrol car. Once inside the car, it took a few moments to calm down. He closed his eyes and drew a shaky breath.

A knock sounded on the driver's-side window. It was one of the other deputies, returning from patrol duty.

Startled, Billy rolled down the window.

“Everything OK in there?” the deputy asked.

“Sure,” Billy said. “Just kinda tired today. Spent all day at the lake yesterday, and it's catchin' up with me.”

He turned the ignition to start the car, waved at the other deputy, and exited the parking area.

He and Jake had made prior arrangements about where Billy would leave the plastic bag containing Jesse Thompson's blood, so Billy drove straight to the drop location.

As he approached the location, Billy called Jake's office.

“Good morning, Holcombe & Reed,” the receptionist answered.

“This is Deputy Laymon with the sheriff's department. I need to speak with Mr. Reed.”

When the receptionist placed him on hold, Billy disconnected the call. He knew that the prearranged signal had been given to Jake. He simply left the bag as planned and drove away as fast as he could.

Law offices of Holcombe & Reed, Jackson, Tennessee

“Did you notice that someone rented the old jewelry store across the street?” Madge asked as Jake entered the back door of the office around ten o'clock. He was returning from retrieving the package Billy Laymon had left for him.

“No, I didn't,” Jake said shortly. He didn't trouble himself with such trivial matters. He walked into his office and unlocked his filing cabinet. Inside the top drawer of the filing cabinet was a manila envelope containing a plastic bag with a strand of Jed McClellan's hair, which he had obtained surreptitiously over the weekend when he visited Jed. He placed the plastic bag from Billy in the same envelope and closed the drawer. A lab in Memphis was sending a courier to pick up the envelope later today. They had promised him he'd have the results as soon as possible.

“Mrs. Alexander, who owns the building across the street, said the new tenant also rented the upstairs apartment,” Madge persisted as she walked into his office just as he was locking the filing cabinet.

Ellen Alexander was a client of Jake's. He had helped her probate her late husband's will a couple of years ago. The old jewelry-store building across the street from Jake's office was part of the assets Mrs. Alexander had received from her husband's estate. She had been trying to rent it for several months.

“What?” Jake replied. He really hadn't been paying attention before now. But something Madge said was catching his interest.

“The store across the street,” Madge reminded him. “Mrs. Alexander said the tenant also rented the upstairs apartment. They paid cash up-front for a six-month lease.”

That's odd
, Jake thought. Nobody paid for the whole lease on the front end, and certainly not with cash.

“Did she say who the tenant was?” Jake asked.

“No. She just said it was two men, and they were going to remodel it into an interior design business. They covered all the front windows so nobody can see in during the renovation.”

“Two men living together in an apartment above an interior-design business?” Jake asked sarcastically. “That's just what we need.”

 

The building across from the offices of Holcombe & Reed was a perfect location from which to conduct the clandestine investigation. The Bureau had been glad to pay $9,000 for a six-month lease. The two agents would probably be there less than a month, but the landlady had refused to agree to a lease shorter than six months. They had negotiated with her like real businessmen for appearance purposes but would have paid whatever she wanted.

Agents Ronald Boyd and Jerry Simon had been sent to Jackson from the New Orleans office. They were loyal to Deputy Director Armacost, and he had personally selected them for this assignment because their accents would blend with those of the local residents.

Ron and Jerry had been involved in busting one of the largest money-laundering schemes in the Southeast. Ron had infiltrated the Capris, a New Orleans organized-crime family that owned the Paradise Island riverboat casino. Jerry had posed as a drug kingpin from Houston, with ties to South America, who had a need to run money through the casino and then to an untraceable account in Panama City. The Capris had liked the idea and sent millions of dollars of their own money to Panama as well. Cash from the casino was loaded into a small plane in New Orleans and then flown to Panama City, where it was deposited into an account set up by the Bureau.

The Capris family never did figure out why the airplane was able to make it safely to Panama City and back every time, when other planes with illegal shipments couldn't. The $100 million that was in the account when the Capris family was arrested was used to fund other FBI undercover operations, including the $9,000 given to Ellen Alexander.

Ron and Jerry had hung Opening Soon signs on the outside front of the old jewelry store right away. Since the locals had heard the rumors about the interior-design business, it was inevitable that someone would try to peer in the front windows. It was impossible, though, because the agents had covered the windows immediately with thick black paper.

Early in their assignment the agents planted small, wireless transmitters, or bugs, throughout the offices of Holcombe & Reed and tapped the telephones. There wasn't a sound that could be made in the law offices that the bugs wouldn't pick up, and Ron and Jerry had to hear every sound that came out of Holcombe & Reed. In the two weeks they'd been there, they'd heard nothing unusual. The Jed McClellan trial was the most talked-about topic, but even those conversations were nothing other than typical trial preparation. At most, Ron and Jerry would stay through the trial in case something important happened; then they would disappear as mysteriously as they'd arrived.

Just then another curious local pressed his face against the glass in the front door, trying desperately to see what was going on inside. Jerry laughed. When would the townspeople realize they couldn't see in?

 

After trying to peer in the front door, Dalton Miller walked casually back to his car, which was parked two blocks up from the old jewelry store. He knew FBI agents were in town, and he had finally found them. They were watching Jake, but they didn't know that Dalton was watching them. He drove past the Holcombe & Reed offices just as the van from River City Laboratory was pulling up.

 

Madison County Criminal Justice Complex, Jackson, Tennessee

At the preliminary hearing regarding the case of
State of Tennessee v. Jedediah McClellan
, Jake had discovered that the sheriff deputies at the crime scene had searched Jed's truck without obtaining a search warrant. Deputy Butch Johnson had testified that the gun was covered by the tarpaulin and was not in open sight in the back of the truck. Jake saw Assistant DA Julie Anderson cringe when Butch stated that he had removed the tarpaulin to see the gun. Jake believed that was an illegal search, and the other defense attorneys waiting in the courtroom that day for their clients' cases to be called agreed with him. If the gun was inadmissible, then the DA would have a hard time convicting Jed of murder, especially capital murder.

The preliminary hearing had been held the week after Jed's arrest, and Jake had filed a motion to suppress the discovery of the gun the following day. The motion had been scheduled for a hearing before Judge Prickett this morning, the Monday following Labor Day. If Jake could somehow convince Judge Prickett to exclude the murder weapon from the evidence presented to the jury, then he might have a shot at an acquittal.

Jake entered the meeting room through a door that connected the holding cell to the courtroom. He wanted to talk with Jed before the hearing. Jed was dressed in the same orange jumpsuit that he'd worn to the arraignment and the preliminary hearing. It had been several days since Jake last saw Jed, and he immediately noticed the changes. Jed's hair was even more shaggy and unkempt, and his eyes were sullen. He evidently hadn't shaved for a while, and he had lost weight. It had been almost a month since his arrest, and confinement in the CJC was beginning to take its toll.

Jed sat in a chair at the small wooden table with his back toward the door. He stared blankly at the concrete block wall across from him. He hardly acknowledged Jake's entrance.

Jake took the chair at the end of the table, to Jed's right. In all the time that had passed since Naomi's confession, Jake had never told Jed who his father was. He wouldn't unless he had undeniable proof from the DNA testing. Even then, if it was true, what had happened was something a mother should tell her son personally first. Before it got out in public. Even if it might swing the court's decision about Jesse's trial.

“Jed, if we win this hearing, we will be in a better position to reach a plea bargain with the DA.”

Jed never took his eyes off the concrete wall. “I ain't pleadin' guilty to somethin' I didn't do.” His voice was deliberate.

“Jed, we've talked about this before. If they convict you, there's a chance you could be sentenced to death,” Jake said firmly.

“I don't care,” Jed fired back. “I didn't do it, and that's it.”

“Jed, you're being unreasonable. Think about Ruth and the kids. If I can plead you to manslaughter, and you only have to serve eight years, then you should take it.”

Jed finally looked at Jake. “If Judge Prickett throws out the gun”—he began to sob brokenly—“can you get him to set bail?”

“I'll try.”

“You've gotta get me out of this place,” Jed begged. “I've gotta go home to my wife and kids.”

Jake knew his client was looking for a little hope. The man needed something to hold on to. Would it be so bad to give Jed what he needed, right now?

After all,
Jake reminded himself,
Jed probably wouldn't be in this situation if it weren't for you.

This whole case seemed to be spinning out of control, and Jake liked to be in control. He didn't like to ask for help from anybody. Even going to Billy Laymon under the table had gone against Jake's grain. He'd spent almost a month working on the case, doing everything he could to get Jed out, but nothing was working. Maybe today their luck would turn. After all, it was clear that everyone in the previous hearing had considered the search of Jed's truck illegal. So the judge would have to grant Jake's motion to suppress the murder weapon, wouldn't he? And without that proof it was possible that soon this whole nightmare would go away.

But Jed McClellan couldn't wait. He needed encouragement
now
.

“Without the gun Judge Prickett might even dismiss the whole case,” Jake blurted out.

It wasn't a complete lie, but it wasn't the truth, either, and Jake knew it. Chances were very high that Judge Prickett would rule to suppress the evidence, due to the illegal search, but it was doubtful he'd dismiss the case. Yet Jake was compelled to keep his client's hope alive.

Jed straightened in his chair. A glimmer of relief shone in his eyes. “Do you really think so?”

“It's possible,” assured Jake. “But we've got to win this motion first.”

There was a knock on the door, and a court security officer popped his head in. “The judge is ready for you, Mr. Reed.”

When Jake and Jed were both seated in the courtroom, the deputy called out, “
State of Tennessee versus Jedediah McClellan
. Motion to suppress filed by the defendant.”

“All right, Mr. Reed,” said Judge Prickett. “Let's hear what you've got.”

Jake rose from his chair behind the defense table and approached the lectern between the two tables. “If it pleases the court, we are here today on the defendant's motion to suppress certain evidence obtained by the sheriff's department in violation of my client's constitutional rights. The prosecution relied on this evidence in indicting my client for this murder and will seek to introduce said evidence to the jury at trial.”

Jake continued, very eloquently explaining to the judge why the gun, the alleged murder weapon, should be excluded from the trial. He reviewed the facts about how Deputy Johnson removed the tarpaulin to expose the gun without obtaining a search warrant. Jake referenced the judge to numerous cases decided by both the supreme court of the State of Tennessee and the Supreme Court of the United States. Those cases, he argued, were similar to the
McClellan
case and required the Court to suppress the gun as evidence.

Judge Prickett sat in his large leather chair behind the bench in the front of the courtroom. He listened very politely, but Jake could sense the judge wasn't really paying attention. Had he made up his mind before the hearing?

“…and that is why we believe that the court should rule that the gun is inadmissible,” concluded Jake. He returned to his chair behind the defense table and sat down beside Jed. He gave Jed an encouraging pat on the back as Judge Prickett turned to District Attorney General Drake Highfill.

“General, do you have anything?” asked the judge.

Drake Highfill rose from behind the prosecution table and buttoned the top two buttons on his three-button suit coat before approaching the lectern. He held his head high as he walked. His shoes glistened from a recent shining, gold-engraved cuff links were visible beyond his coat sleeve, and his suit and shirt were fresh from the cleaners. His skin was so tan that he had to be making regular visits to a tanning salon. Everything about Drake was perfect…and it made Jake sick to his stomach.

It was absurd how important Drake tried to look, Jake thought. Only in Drake's own mind was he important. His position as lead prosecutor in the three-county district could easily be wrested away from him at the next election, and then Drake would be nothing.

“Your Honor, the present case is clearly distinguishable from the cases cited by counsel for the defendant. The defendant could not possibly have had a privacy right in the contents of the bed of his pickup. The items in the bed of the truck, including the tarpaulin, were in plain view. Since the tarpaulin was in plain view, then it could be removed to expose what was beneath it. The investigating officer did not violate the defendant's constitutional rights when he discovered the murder weapon.”