Chapter 19

“We need to have a talk with Mr. Clark again,” I said.

“I concur. He’s got a conviction record and there’s no way he should be in possession of any guns for any reason. We can get a warrant to search his place and see what we can find. I’ll get working on that right now. You call him and tell him we want him to meet us at his place as soon as he’s available,” Johnson said. Before I could reply, he turned and picked up the phone and began pressing the numbers. I turned and did the same.

The timing worked out perfectly. When the warrant was ready, it gave us exactly the twenty minutes we’d need to get to his home. We pulled into a parking space just as he was getting out of his car. He leaned his head back, forcing his long red locks to tumble down his back. Without thinking, my hand raised to my own head and I rubbed my palm across my clean shaven scalp. I had long hair like his once upon a time, I thought.

“What’s going on? What’s the big rush?” Billy asked. He stood before us with his arms crossed.

“We have a warrant to search your place.” Johnson flipped the folded sheet of paper back and forth before slapping it into Billy’s open hand.

“What the fuck for? What did I do? Or what do you think I did?”

“We believe you have some guns in there, Mr. Clark. That would be a parole violation and could land you back in jail,” Johnson said. He winked at Billy, then we proceeded to walk up the sidewalk. “Come on, get this door open.”

“I had the guns before I got those charges against me. I only use them for hunting. Is that a crime?”

“When you’re a felon, it is. But you already know that, don’t you?” I stepped up onto the porch. “Don’t delay the inevitable; open the door so we don’t have to break it down.”

“This is bullshit, man. Holy fucking hell.” He opened the door and stepped in before we did, but we were close on his heels. “They’re in my bedroom, the second door on the right. There’s no need to fuck my shit up to find them. The ammo is in my top drawer.”

We could hear him continue to mumble under his breath as we stormed down the hall and into his bedroom, making a beeline to his closet. We saw the guns immediately, lying on the floor in plain sight. We retrieved the ammo to see if there was a way to do a ballistics check against any remnants that may still be in the lab.

Before we left his room, we sifted through the clothes on the floor to make sure there weren’t any more weapons. It was a good thing we did. We found some bloody clothes wrapped around a .22 handgun and a knife. We bagged them for evidence, checked the rest of his room, including under his mattress, and we met up with Mr. Clark in the living room.

“It sure as fuck took you long enough. I hope you didn’t make a mess of my room,” Billy said. His face was twisted in disgust, like he’d been sucking on lemons the entire time we were in his room.

“Is there anything you’d like to tell us?” I asked.

“I’d like to tell you to get the fuck out of my house, but I don’t think you will. So, no,” he said. He shook his head.

“Fine. Turn around please and place your hands at the small of your back.” I removed the cuffs from my waistband, and after securing his left wrist I reached for his right and began talking to him. “Billy Clark, you’re under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. You have the wrong person. I didn’t kill anyone.”

We drove to the station in silence. Billy hummed the entire time, which drove me batty. When we arrived, and helped him out of the vehicle, I asked him, “Do you want to talk to us, or do you want a lawyer?”

“I’m not scared to talk to you guys. I’m telling you, I’m innocent.”

“That’s what they all say,” Johnson scoffed.

“But I am.” Without another word, we continued to make our way to room number one. Lucky number one.

“Have a seat, Billy,” I said. Johnson said he’d be back. I knew he was going to monitor our conversation and Billy’s body language from outside the room on the monitor. I was flattered that he felt confident enough in me to question Billy alone.

I removed the recorder from my shirt pocket and set it on the table. “You know why you’re here, right?”

“I know what you said I was being arrested for, but you don’t have any proof that I did anything.”

“We have your blood-stained clothes, the gun, and the knife. As soon as ballistics confirms that was the weapon used, and the lab matches any of the DNA from your clothes to Effridge, we’ll talk formal charges.”

“Unless Effridge has the same blood type as a deer, that blood won’t match his. I went hunting on the weekend.”

“And you just so happened to leave your blood-soaked clothes on the closet floor wrapped around a gun and knife, right?”

“That’s what you found, so yep. I needed to clean everything up, but haven’t had time yet. I was going to just throw the clothes away since I didn’t get them washed.”

“I’m not so sure I’m buying that story, Billy.”

“Man, I’m not making this up. I didn’t kill that guy. I didn’t like him one bit, but I sure as shit am not throwing my life away for him. I told you, his wife gave me a second chance and there’s no way I’d throw it away. I have a lot of respect for her.”

“That’s touching. Who showed you the pictures of your girlfriend with Effridge?”

His skin tone changed from a pale and freckled pallor to a spotty, flushed tint; and he was fidgety. He was visibly agitated.

“She did.” He forced the words out between his clenched teeth.

“I’ll bet it pissed you off to no end to see her out with the man who was hell-bent on making her his. I saw the pictures. They would have made a stunning couple.”

“They aren’t a fucking couple!” He huffed in a few breaths. “She’s my girlfriend, not his.”

“And you wanted to make sure he understood, so you put a couple of slugs in him.”

“No. I didn’t kill him.”

“You know, if you confess it will lift the burden from your shoulders and you’ll be free. Free from all the guilt, free from the worry, and free from harboring this awful secret any longer. And we can get you out of here much sooner. What do you say?”

“Wow. Does that work on scared teenagers, Detective? I’m not falling for that line. And I have no burden or secrets I’m holding in. I’m innocent.”

We spent an additional couple of hours going back and forth, making no progress toward getting a confession. I needed leverage. I needed the lab findings. Almost as instantly as I had that thought, the door opened and Johnson called for me to step out. I excused myself and left the room to join him and Sarge in the hall. Before he said a word, I knew he didn’t have anything to tell me that I’d want to hear.

“Bad news,” he said. “We got the lab results. Effridge’s DNA isn’t on the clothes anywhere. As a matter of fact the majority of the blood wasn’t even human, except the few drops that matched to Clark. The gun isn’t a match, and the knife isn’t either.”

“Shit.” I was beyond frustrated. I had hoped we had the killer.

“What do you have on that guy?” Sarge asked.

“It looks like just illegal possession of weapons,” I replied.

“Confiscate the weapons and let him go. We can’t waste time on him anymore. There’s a killer out there just waiting to be caught.”

“Yes, sir,” I said.