“I am. Really. This arrest is laughable.”
“Your client isn’t under arrest,” Walker said. “We merely want to chat.”
“Like something on your social calendar? How nice. Yet you issued search warrants for his home and car, did you not?”
“We did.”
Hester nodded. “Good, super. Here, before we get started.” She slid a piece of paper and pen across the table.
“What’s this?” Walker asked.
“I would like you to write down your names, ranks, office addresses, home addresses, phone numbers, turn-ons, turnoffs, whatever else may help my subpoena server find and thus serve you when we sue for wrongful arrest.”
“I just told you. No one is under arrest.”
“And I just told you, handsome: Yet you issued search warrants.”
“I would think your client would like to make a statement.”
“You do?”
“We have a witness who saw your client execute a man,” Walker said.
Ed Grayson opened his mouth, but Hester Crimstein put her hand on his forearm, silencing him.
“You don’t say.”
“A reliable witness.”
“And your reliable witness saw my client execute—such an impressive word, by the way, not kill or murder or shoot, but execute—a man?”
“That’s correct.”
Hester smiled faux sweetly. “Do you mind then if we take it a step at a time, Sheriff?”
“A step at a time.”
“Yes. First off, who is the man? The victim of this execution?”
“Dan Mercer.”
“The pedophile?”
“Doesn’t matter who or what he was. And that particular charge was dropped.”
“Well, that last part is true. Your compadres screwed up the case. But never mind. Step by step. First step: You say Dan Mercer was executed.”
“Correct.”
“So, step one: Show us the body.”
Silence.
“Trouble with your hearing, big boy? The body. I would like my medical examiner to examine it.”
“Don’t be cute, Hester. You know it hasn’t been located yet.”
“Not located?” Now Hester feigned shock. “Well, maybe you could tell me what evidence you have that Dan Mercer is even dead? Wait, never mind. I’m kind of in a rush. No body, am I right?”
“Not yet.”
“Okay, fine. Next step. You claim, even though you don’t have a body, that Dan Mercer was executed?”
“Yes.”
“I assume a weapon of some sort was used? Could we examine that please?”
More silence.
Hester cupped her ear. “Hello?”
“We haven’t located it yet,” Walker said.
“No weapon?”
“No weapon.”
“No body, no weapon.” Hester spread her hands and grinned. “Now do you see what I mean by ‘man, this is fun’?”
“We were hoping your client would like to make a statement.”
“About what? Solar energy and its role in the twenty-first century? Wait, I’m not done. We did the body and the weapon—what did we forget? Oh, that’s right. The witness.”
Silence.
“Your witness saw my client execute Dan Mercer, correct?”
“Correct.”
“She saw his face?”
Another pause.
Hester cupped the ear again. “Go ahead, big fella. Say it.”
“He was wearing a mask.”
“Pardon me?”
“He was wearing a mask.”
“As in, a mask that would cover his face?”
“That’s what she testified to, yes.”
“And yet she identified my client how?”
“By his watch.”
“His watch?”
Walker cleared his throat. “And his height and build.”
“Six foot, one-eighty. Oh, and that ever-rare Timex. Do you know why I’m no longer smiling, Sheriff Walker?”
“I’m sure you’ll tell us.”
“I’m no longer smiling because this is too easy. Do you know what I get per hour? For that kind of money, I deserve a challenge. This is simply insulting. Your case, as it were, is beyond fish ’n’ barrel. I don’t want to hear what you don’t have anymore. I want to hear what you do.”
She waited. So far Walker had only given up what she already knew. That was the only reason Crimstein was still there. She wanted to know what they did have.
“We are hoping your client will make a statement,” Walker said again.
“Not if that’s all you have.”
“It’s not.”
Pause.
“Would you like a drum roll?” Hester asked.
“We have physical evidence tying your client to both Dan Mercer and the scene of the crime.”
“Oh, goodie. Do tell.”
“Understand the tests are all preliminary. We will have details in the next few weeks. But we have a pretty good idea of what the physical evidence will show. That’s why we have your client here. To help explain his part in this to us. Get ahead of it.”
“Nice of you.”
“We found blood in the trailer. We also found blood specks in Mr. Grayson’s Acura MDX. While a full DNA test will take some time, the preliminary results show that the blood matches. That is, the blood found where our witness says Mr. Mercer was shot is the same as the blood found in your client’s vehicle. We also typed it. O negative, the same as Mr. Mercer’s. We also have carpet fibers. Without going into too much detail, the same carpet fibers were found in the trailer rented out by Mr. Mercer and in your client’s Acura MDX. We also have the same fibers on the bottom of your client’s sneaker. Lastly, we ran a gun residue test. There were powder marks found on your client’s hands. He fired a gun.”
Hester sat there and stared. Walker stared back.
“Ms. Crimstein?”
“I’m waiting until you’re finished. Because that can’t be all you have.”
Walker said nothing.
Hester turned to Ed Grayson. “Come on. We’re leaving.”
“No response at all?” Walker asked.
“To what? My client is a decorated retired federal marshal. Mr. Grayson is a family man, a pillar of the community, a man with no criminal record at all—yet you waste our time with this nonsense. At best—at the very, very best if all the tests come back the way you hope and I don’t destroy all your so-called physical evidence with my experts and my cross and my accusations about tainting and incompetence—if that all goes perfectly for you, which I highly doubt, you might, might, be able to show a casual link between my client and Dan Mercer. Period, the end. And that’s laughable. No body, no weapon, no witness who can positively identify my client. You don’t even have proof there was a crime—let alone that my client was involved.”